


The Red Door and The Lemon Tree

by greengrlelphie



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: D&D fucked up big time, F/M, Fix It, Slow Burn, in which dany is resurrected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-04-12 13:50:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 37,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19133311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greengrlelphie/pseuds/greengrlelphie
Summary: Daenerys Targaryen was assassinated, but resurrected to forge a new life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hate D&D. That is all.

Pain. 

It was all Dany felt as she cried out in the darkness. Pain and confusion. She didn’t know where she was or why she was here. All she remembered was standing in the throne room, right on the precipice of everything she had ever dreamed of. She had touched the Iron Throne of her ancestors. But then...gods, he had betrayed her. In the very moment that she had offered him everything with the hope that he still loved her, he cut her life short. Murdered her in cold blood. But for what? All she remembered was standing in front of the Unsullied and khalasar after the bells had rung. They had won a great victory without harming hardly anyone. Why would he kill her? Unless...no, he said he didn’t want it. He said that she was his Queen! A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she laid in the darkness.

Where was she? Was this the Night Lands? She did not dare move as she attempted to discern where she was. Her mind raced as she tried to go through all she knew about death. It was not much. She remembered her vision in the House of the Undying. But why wasn’t she there, with Drogo and Rhaego? He had promised to wait for her there. But this place...it was not warm or comforting. It was cold and deafeningly silent.

“You have nothing to fear, Daenerys Stormborn,” a voice called out in the dark.

“Who are you? Where am I?” 

A flame began to flicker nearby and a torch was lit. Then another. And another. Until the room was lit and the darkness was purged. Dany saw a woman in red with hair black as a raven. She was beautiful, but Dany knew her to be a red priestess by the necklace she wore around her neck. It looked like one Melisandre wore.

“I am Kinvara, a high priestess of the Lord of Light,” the woman replied. “You are safe in Volantis, my Queen.”

“What happened?” Slowly, she sat up and felt the pain spread through her body as she winced and drew her hand up to her chest.

“You were assassinated...but I was able to bring you back,” Kinvara stated, stepping closer to her. “You are still healing and need to rest.”

She remembered hearing Ser Davos mention something about Jon being brought back...and then Tormund too, at the feast after the battle. Coming back from the dead was awful, confusing, and painful in a way that she was not prepared for. And then it occurred to her as she looked around that she did not see any sign of Drogon. 

“Dr-Drogon...where is he?” she asked, worried for her child. The last of her children.

“He is safe. Perched atop the temple awaiting his mother. He brought you here after you were stabbed.” Kinvara took a goblet and poured some water into it, handing it to Dany. “Your dragon is quite extraordinary and intelligent.”

Dany knew this. Drogon had always had a deep connection to her, even in the beginning. He would not leave her side if she had been in danger. Nodding, Dany took a moment to gather herself and look around. She had seen temples before but nothing like this one. It was beautiful, but also felt like a place where all were welcomed. She turned her attention to Kinvara again.

“Why did you bring me back?” she asked. 

“Because the Lord of Light still has a purpose for you, Daenerys. It is yet to be seen, but we have faith that you will conquer and the darkness will relinquish its hold on the world.”

“What darkness?” Dany never followed a religion, truly, during her life. She knew prophecies and had heard stories and whispers of those who had followed other religions. “The Night King is gone. Defeated.”

“The night is dark and full of terrors still,” Kinvara said. 

While she still did not understand completely, Dany nodded and moved to stand. Her body ached and she felt where she had been stabbed. A scar was raised above the skin beneath the gown of silk she had been dressed in. The man she had loved and allowed herself to truly get close to for the first time in years had killed her. She did not understand why he would have done it. He said that he loved her and she had offered to share her throne with him because she believed that they could make the world a better place, together. Everything she had gone through had been for naught.

“Your child still lives too,” Kinvara added after a few moments. 

“What?” she asked, turning to the priestess in disbelief. Dany had no other children, save Drogon.

“You are carrying a child,” she repeated. “You will be safe here and no one will harm you or the child.”

Her hand dropped to her stomach, in awe of the news she had just been given. A child. How could this have happened? She believed for so long she could never have children and insisted that she never would. But here she was and she carried the child of the man who murdered her. The gods were cruel and unjust to give her what she had always longed for, but at the hands of another who had taken everything from her. How could she look at this child and ever love them?

No.

She would love this child, fiercely. This was her child. Not his.

* * *

The first month after her return was terrifying as Dany feared someone would find her. It was rare that she ever left the temple and even then, it was only to go outside to see Drogon. She woke every night screaming as she dreamed of Jon stabbing her. The priestesses offered her Essence of Nightshade for sleep, but she refused as she did not want to risk any harm to her child. Her body began to change with her pregnancy as it had the first time and she was prepared for the changes as she welcomed each one as a sign her child was healthy and well.

Each month progressed much the same as she allowed herself to feel more at ease in the temple. The priestesses tended to her needs and Kinvara updated her often on the events in Westeros. The Iron Throne was gone, destroyed by Drogon after her death, and the Lords and Ladies had chosen a new king. Bran Stark now sat upon a throne and ruled the people. The North was now apparently independent with Sansa Stark as their Queen. And Jon...her murderer, was sent back to the Nights Watch. The Unsullied had sailed away from Westeros and the khalasar had gone to new lands. Dany truly had lost everything. Her parents, her brothers, her husband, her son, her friends, her protectors, her dragons, and her life. All for nothing. 

A kick gave her pause. Not all for nothing. Her hand went to her belly and pressed against it as she felt her child moving around. This child and Drogon were all she had left. And she would not allow either of them to ever be harmed. 

“Are you well, My Queen?” a priestess asked as she came in the door. Her name was Aleera.

“Yes...it’s just the child,” she replied with a faint smile. “They’re restless.”

“It won’t be much longer until they arrive,” Aleera said, bringing over a tray of food. “The High Priestess says she predicts within the next moon.”

“I hope so,” she admitted as she took a few grapes. “There will be little room left.”

“You have a visitor,” Aleera said as she went to the door. “A friend.”

Dany froze as she turned to the door, not knowing who was coming. No one had come here in the months since she had arrived and she feared someone had come to kill her and her unborn child. Her hand went instinctively to her belly, protecting her child. But the moment she saw her visitor, she felt her body relax and tears form in her eyes.

“Torgo Nudho,” she breathed, coming over and wrapping her arms around him. 

He wrapped his arms around her, albeit hesitantly, as if he didn’t believe she was real. She held onto him tightly as he was the only true friend she had left. He was the most loyal soldier and friend she had and she was thankful to see him again.

“My Queen...” he said, pulling back to look at her to ensure she was real. “You live...”

She nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. “And you are here.”

“I heard rumor that Daenerys Stormborn was alive,” he said. “I return to your side.”

“I am honored that you chose to come back,” she said sincerely. “You are free to go anywhere. You don’t have to follow me...”

“I went to Isle of Naath...for Missandei,” he said. “No master will ever go there again.”

Tears gathered in her eyes as she nodded, wiping them as they fell down her cheeks. Missandei was her closest companion and friend. She had met her all those years ago and felt like she was always a part of her family. They often talked late into the night and she looked to her for guidance when she needed it. Her death still caused deep anguish to Dany as she felt like she was responsible for what happened. It was one of the most painful things she had been through. And to Torgo Nudho as he had loved her. They had both lost a part of their heart when she died.

“I still miss her,” she said softly. 

He nodded solemnly in agreement. “But you are still here. And you are having a child.”

“I am...” she said, touching her stomach. The baby was kicking. “Not long from now.”

“I will stay. And protect my Queen.”

Dany was touched by his words. After she had lost so much, she still had one person who cared for her and her unborn child. He was one of the most dedicated soldiers and friends she had ever known. With him at her side and Drogon guarding from above, she felt like she could finally feel safe for the first time in months.

* * *

Dany did not remember birth being this painful. Rhaego’s birth had been a blur to her as she was not conscious for most of it and woke up afterward. This time, however, she was very much awake and present. The hours seemed to pass by so slowly as she labored in her chambers, getting up and walking around as she could. She could hear Drogon outside of the temple, lamenting his mother’s pain. Torgo Nudho stayed by her side, holding her up when the waves of pain came crashing down on her. She cursed Jon Snow with every breath she could and swore that she would never lay with another man as long as she lived.

“Your baby is almost here, my Queen,” Kinvara encouraged. “It’s time to push.”

As she held on tight to Torgo Nudho’s hand, she began to push. It hurt more than she could have ever imagined, but she was strong. She was determined to bring this child into the world and hold them in her arms. It seemed as though hours went by as she pushed and cried out, feeling her body tense up with every passing pain. And then, a moment of silence before a sharp, shrill cry pierced the room.

“A princess!” Kinvara exclaimed, holding up the newborn baby in her hands. 

Dany immediately reached for her daughter and brought her to her chest. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she kissed her daughter’s head. She had longed to hold a living child in her arms since she lost her son and now she had her daughter. A precious little girl.

“She is beautiful like her mother,” Torgo Nudho said as he stayed close to their side.

“She is perfect,” she murmured, cradling her daughter in her arms. It was everything she had ever wanted.

“This child is special,” Kinvara declared. “A child truly born of ice and fire.”

The priestesses helped Dany to clean up and she was given privacy to spend with her newborn daughter. Dany unwrapped her from her blankets and looked at her. She was beautiful in every sense of the word with her long fingers, tiny toes, and wisps of dark hair curling around the crown of her head. In her vision of Rhaego in the House of the Undying, he had dark hair as well, like his father. Her daughter was the vision of her father, but in a way that didn’t pain Dany. She could see pieces of herself in her, with the way her ears curled and how her lips were shaped like her own. This was her whole heart.

“What shall I call you?” she asked scooping up the baby and resting her against her chest.

The weight of a child against her body felt right as she kissed her daughter’s head. She was exhausted, but her joy outweighed her desire to sleep. Every moment of her daughter’s life was precious and she did not want to miss these first moments. Months ago, she had wondered if she could ever love a child that had come from the man who had taken her life. Now she knew that without a doubt she loved her daughter more than anything. Nothing would come between her and her child and no one would take her away from Dany. 

  
“ Rhaenys,” she whispered. “You shall be Rhaenys Targaryen of the blood of Old Valyria.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support!

Rhaenys Targaryen was a beautiful child with soft, dark curls and strikingly beautiful eyes like her mother’s. She had chubby cheeks with tiny rolls on her thighs as she had grown in size since her birth six moons ago. All of the priestesses and others fawned over her beauty and her calm demeanor. She was a curious babe as she always reached for new things and loved when Dany sang her songs in Dothraki. 

Dany had grown confident as a mother since her daughter’s birth. She nursed her on her own, insistent that no one else would take care of her child. The closeness they had from nursing was a bond Dany treasured. It was what she had longed for after losing Rhaego. A sweet child at her breast, heart beating against her own. Her daughter was never more than a few feet from her at all times and she slept with Rhaenys on her chest every night. Motherhood had begun to heal the deep wounds that had been left by Jon’s betrayal. 

“And then your brothers hatched from the fire,” she said, rocking Rhaenys in her arms as she nursed one night. “Viserion, Rhaegal, and Drogon. Your dragon brothers. They were as small as cats, but they grew fast to be strong. Just as you shall be, my little khalakki.”

Since birth, Rhaenys had been told about her dragon brothers. Dany recounted their birth as a bedtime story many times. She had yet to bring her to meet Drogon, but he sensed something had changed during her visits outside when she had been pregnant. Her only living child had become gentle with her, nudging his snout against her burgeoning belly. His purrs let her know that he knew she was having a child. Her heart longed for Rhaegal and Viserion as she wished they were here with their brother to meet their new sister. It still pained her to think of their deaths. Losing Viserion had cut deeply because she had not expected to lose a dragon. But then Rhaegal...his death had been unnecessary and wrong at the hands of a pirate.

“She is growing strong and well,” Kinvara said as she knocked to come in to bring Dany some tea and food, interrupting her thoughts.

“Yes...she’s finally starting to sleep through the night,” she mused, brushing her free hand through her daughter’s hair. It was soft, like that of feathers or the mane of her silver. 

“She has an even temperament. So many of the priestesses comment on how quiet she is. Except when she’s hungry, of course.” Kinvara smiles as she approached with the food. 

“I cannot believe how fast she has grown,” she commented. “Seems like yesterday that I first held her in my arms.”

Dany would never forget that moment as long as she lived. Seeing Rhaenys for the first time was like the moment her dragons hatched into the world. A powerful moment that she would keep in her heart. She was the mother of dragons, but also a mother of a living child she never thought she would have. The curse had been broken and she held the most precious treasure in her arms.

“Children are the future of our world. Innocent with no knowledge of evil or of hate. They can be taught how to love others.”

“I do not want her to be harmed...there are still others out there that would harm her because she is my child,” she said quietly. 

“No one will harm her here, My Queen,” Kinvara assured her. “We all love her and will protect her with our lives.”

That gave Dany some peace of mind. Since Torgo Nudho had returned to her side, the Unsullied had followed and remained at her service. She insisted that they were free men, but they all said they had sworn to follow her as free men and protect her and her child. She loved them all and considered them her family. As the last Targaryens, she and Rhaenys had no other family. But the Unsullied had become their family and she loved them all. Some of her khalasar had also returned to her and sworn their loyalty to her. She felt safe.

* * *

Her daughter continued to grow month after month until she reached her first name day. Rhaenys was a lovely child, full of spirit and life. Her dark hair continued to grow, curling wildly to frame her face. And her eyes changed to a beautiful green with blue, like the ocean. Dany noticed the change day by day as she nursed her, watching her beautiful eyes as they looked up at her. 

All who knew her loved her and wanted nothing but happiness for her. The khalasar called her their khalakki, a princess. It was beautiful to see the women and children fawn over her and tell her the stories of the Dothraki. And the Unsullied all viewed her as a precious one

She began to walk right before her first name day, much to Dany’s surprise and delight. 

“Mai!” she cried, pulling herself to standing from where she sat on the floor.

“Oh look at you, my little khalakki!” Dany cooed, moving from her chair to kneel on her knees on the floor.

“Mai! Mai!” Rhaenys squealed as she moved forward on her shaky legs. 

“Come here, my sweetling,” she said, holding out her arms.

Rhaenys moved forward, stopping as she became unsteady, but never once fell as she set her eyes on Dany. Her determination was fierce, which reminded Dany of herself. This little one was a Targaryen through and through. When she came close enough, Dany scooped her up into her arms and kissed her cheeks, uttering praises. 

“She grows fast,” Torgo Nudho said, standing in the doorway. He smiled as he looked to the tiny princess.

“She has...it does not seem like it has been a year since her birth,” she mused, cuddling with her baby in her arms as she looked to her friend.

“Tor!” Rhaenys said, reaching out for him.

He stepped forward and picked her up, her hands going to his face as she giggled and gave him a baby kiss. Dany stood and watched them, thankful that her daughter had a good male influence in her life. Someone who watched over her and loved her as much as she did. The last year had been healing for both of them as they were mended from their losses and Rhaenys gave them both joy that they did not think was possible again.

“She adores you,” Dany said. “I think you are one of her favorite people in the world.”

“I love her like she was mine,” he said, looking up from the baby.

“I have been thinking...most in my family do not traditionally have a second name. Mine is Stormborn, but that is rare. But I would like to give her a second name. Missandei. A gift for her first name day,” she said, holding her hands in front of her.

“Rhaenys Missandei,” he repeated, nodding in agreement with a small smile. “A good name for a good child.”

Though her heart would never fully heal from the loss of one of her closest friends, having her name live on through her child was a comfort. Missandei was gentle and kind. She would have loved Rhaenys like her own and taught her all of the languages she knew. It tugged at her heart to think of that. Her daughter would know all of those that Dany had lost. Know and remember them so they would never be forgotten.

* * *

Through the years, Rhaenys continued to grow. Her loving nature and adventurous spirit continued to capture the hearts of all who knew her. When she was three, Dany moved from the temple to a home nearby. A home with a red door and a lemon tree outside in the garden, just as she remembered from the one place that felt like home in her own childhood. The Unsullied settled into homes and the khalasar remained close by in their camp. Everyone swore to protect their princess, each taking part in raising her. 

Her daughter spoke three languages by the time she reached her fifth name day, rode a horse like she was born for it, and approached Drogon with no fear. Rhaenys loved the songs of the khalasar, drifting to the drums to join in. The women braided her hair and placed bells on the end, bringing the little girl joy and pride as she was a part of their family. Dany felt her heart swelling with happiness each time she saw her daughter ran through the camp with the other children, living a childhood she never had. 

“Rhaenys, it’s time to come inside,” she called, watching as her daughter turned to face her. She could see the small pout and almost had to laugh.

“Mai, can I stay please?” the little girl begged. 

“You can come back first thing in the morning,” Dany promised, tucking her finger under her daughter’s chin as she came over to bring her eyes upward. “You need a bath tonight.”

With a huff, Rhaenys waved to the other children and took Dany’s hand, going back to their home. The water was already waiting for them, so Dany unbraided her daughter’s hair and helped her into the tub when her dress was gone. Kneeling down, she brought a cup into the water to pour over Rhaenys hair, working some of the scented oils and soaps into her mess of curls.

“Mai, do I have an ave?” 

Dany stopped. She had been dreading this question since the moment her daughter was born, though she had hoped she would have more time to think about the answer to that question than just a mere five years. The thought of telling Rhaenys that her father had betrayed and murdered her was heartbreaking to Dany. Her child was still much too innocent to know about those things. 

“You do have an ave, my little one,” she answered honestly. “But he is not a part of our lives.”

“Why?” Rhaenys looked up at her innocently.

“He made a choice a long time ago that hurt me,” she explained carefully. Her daughter did not need to know the specifics. “And I want to protect you from anything that can hurt you.”

Her daughter nodded, popping the bubbles in the bath water, seemingly distracted by them. Dany continued to wash her daughter’s hair and rinsed it out before helping her out of the tub. She dried her off and helped her into a gown to sleep. Looking at her daughter, Dany could see so much of Jon. His wild curls. The way she smiled sometimes mimicked his. But her eyes...they were all Dany. And the fire inside her. Rhaenys was a Targaryen, through and through. 

“Mai, will you tell me about Ser Jorah tonight?” she asked innocently.

Dany smiled and brought her over to the bed. “Jorah was my oldest and truest friend. I met him many years ago on the day I married Khal Drogo.”

These stories were all tales that her child knew well. She had told her of all the people who she had loved and lost, but who had remained at her side until the very end. She knew of Jorah the Andal, Missandei of Naath, and her dragon brothers, Viserion and Rhaegal. Dany told her about Irri and even Doreah, leaving out the betrayal. Rhaenys took in every story and became enamoured with all of them. By the end of the story, her little one was sound asleep on her bed. Dany brushed her curls back and kissed her forehead. 

“One day,” she promised in a whisper. “I will tell you about your father. When you are older and can understand.”

Dany got up and unbraided her hair, combing through it with her fingers. She got undressed and looked down at the scar below her breast. It was still raised, but the color had gone down from the angry red it had once been right after she had been resurrected. She knew Rhaenys had seen it once or twice, but never asked about it, thankfully. After getting dressed, she moved to the bed and slipped in beside her sleeping child. The gods had given her a gift that she knew she would never take for granted. Her whole heart was right here in front of her. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story gives me life after the hell we all went through in season 8.

The gods were kind and good to Rhaenys Targaryen as she grew in both strength and beauty. By her eighth name day, her wild curly hair grew past her shoulders and was often tied into braids. She loved to run and to explore all of her surroundings. And while she was as graceful as her mother, she had a wild streak that called to her when she was playing with other children. 

Her mother had said they were the blood of the dragon. A long line of kings and queens that came from Old Valyria that escaped before the Doom of Valyria to come to Westeros for safety. Dragon riders and tamers. She knew the stories of Aegon the Conquerer and his sister wives by heart, one of whom she had been named for. At night, Rhaenys would dream she was the first Rhaenys, riding her great dragon, Meraxes.

On the morning of her eighth name day, Rhaenys impatiently waited while her mother braided her hair, bouncing in her chair. Today was a special day. Her mother had finally agreed to take her on a ride with Drogon. She had been asking since she was old enough to remember and her mother always told her no, that it was not safe. But today she had said yes! 

“Drogon is waiting!” she chirped excitedly as she hopped down and pulled on her boots.

“I know, my little khalakki,” Dany said, laughing as she finished her own hair. “Wait just a few more minutes and I’ll be done.”

“I love him. He is a fierce protector and brother.” Rhaenys had always known her brother. He had always been there, guarding over her and her mother.

“That he is,” her mother agreed as she took her hand and walked outside.

“Mai, you rode dragons for a long time. Why did you stop?” she asked curiously as they walked toward where Drogon had been nesting.

“I stopped when I had you. You needed all of my attention and care. Drogon knew that and always stayed close by to protect us.”

Nodding, she skipped along with her mother until they reached the great black dragon, waking from his slumber. Rhaenys had never been afraid of him. He looked frightening to others, but he was her brother. Approaching him with no fear, she smiled and rested her forehead to his snout. He made a purr of approval as he looked back to their mother. 

“Are you ready to fly?” her mother asked, coming close and pressing her hand to Drogon’s face. 

With her mother’s help, she climbed onto the wide back of their dragon. His body was radiating heat, but it was both comforting and welcomed by Rhaenys. Her mother came behind her and wrapped one arm around her and held onto one of Drogon’s spikes.

“Hold on tight,” Dany instructed.

Rhaenys grabbed on and felt the wings of her brother flap with great force as they lifted off from the ground. A rush of excitement filled her as she looked around. They were going higher until they reached the clouds above the city. Her laughter filled the air as she felt the breeze in her hair and against her face. It was just as her mother had described it. They flew across the great cities in Volantis and circled around to the sea where she felt the mist of the water against her face. 

Her heart was racing as they dove and swirled around, but she was happy. She felt like she had the world at her hands and that she could go anywhere her heart desired. Her mother guided Drogon back to the ground after they had been flying for some time. Rhaenys slipped down with her mother’s help and came over to Drogon’s nose, kissing it once. 

“Thank you, Drogon,” she said sweetly. 

Drogon made a purring noise and she smiled as she came to her mother’s side. Her mother came over to Drogon and pet the side of his face. Drogon moved onto his nest and revealed something that caught Rhaenys’ eye.

“Mai!” she exclaimed, pointing over. “Look! Are those dragon eggs?” 

Her mother seemed surprised but then looked again, gasping. “They are, my sweetling. Drogon must have laid them.”

“Can we take them? You had your dragon eggs!” She was so excited at the prospect of having eggs for herself. 

“No, they belong to Drogon little one,” her mother replied. 

“But you are the Mother of Dragons,” she argued. 

“I am, but my dragons had no other mother. They were the first in over a hundred years, little one. These eggs have Drogon to look over them and protect them. And if we take them, Drogon might be upset with us.”

Rhaenys was sad, but she nodded in understanding. They belonged to Drogon and her brother would look over them until they hatched. But they called to her. Five beautiful eggs. A golden one with green flecks, a beautiful black with spots of red and brilliant gold, a deep ruby with small spots of black, a deep blue, and a small silver. All of them were mesmerizing to Rhaenys as she looked at them. Maybe they would hatch into dragons and she would have her very own!   
  


* * *

Later, long after Rhaenys had been put to bed, Dany left the house. Torgo Nudho stood guard to watch over her daughter so she could visit Drogon. Today had been her first flight in over eight years and it had been exhilarating. Her heart soared as she flew with Drogon and her daughter, like she had rediscovered a piece of herself. When she approached her dragon, she smiled and offered him a large goat she had brought with her. He easily roasted the meat and then ate it while Dany brushed her hand along his wing. The eggs were nearby. 

“Look at these,” she marveled, stepping to them. “They are beautiful, Drogon.”

Drogon curled up, placing his head by her as she sat with the eggs. She picked one up, the ruby with black spots, holding it in her hands. It felt alive, unlike her first eggs. These were living dragon eggs. The first seen in hundreds of years. Warm to the touch, they were beautiful and brought a tear to her eye. She thought of her two children she had lost. Viserion and Rhaegal could never be replaced, but these new dragons were a new beginning. Drogon wouldn’t be alone any longer and that brought her comfort as she could feel his longing in her heart. 

“We’ll do things right this time,” she said. “I know better how to take care of you. No one will be hurt and I will never have to lock you away.” 

When Dany’s dragons had hatched, they were the first seen in over a hundred years. No one knew how to raise dragons, so she had done her best to learn by experience. Dragons were highly intelligent creatures and she had trained all three of hers with what she knew and learned. She knew that five newly hatched dragons would garner a lot of attention, but the people who lived around them would protect them and keep them safe as many were the Unsullied and the khalasar. No one would dare come close without facing them first.

After spending some time with Drogon, she left him to sleep while she returned to her home. Tomorrow she would begin lessons with Rhaenys on raising dragons. Everything she had learned would be passed down to her daughter, so that another generation of dragon riders would rise up and take care of the creatures that they had been gifted. When she approached, she saw a shadow and stopped. 

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I would think after all this time you would still know who I was,” the voice called out.

Dany paused, knowing who the voice was, relaxing for just a moment. “Daario...why are you here and not in Meereen?” 

“I had heard that the Queen I served was murdered,” he replied as he stepped out of the shadow. “Stabbed by someone she trusted. At first, I was angry...I thought to sail for Westeros the day I received the news and murder those who had killed her in their sleep.”

“But you didn’t?” She raised her eyebrow in question.

“Then I thought, what would my Queen do if her people still needed her?” He stepped forward to her. “Meereen still needed leadership and force to ensure the masters did not enslave others again. So I stayed. I helped them elect their new leaders, as you told me, and protected their people as their new ruling class began.”

Dany smiled, pleased that Meereen was doing well. She had wondered about the other free cities in Dragon’s Bay since she had come back from the dead, but dared not venture past where she knew she was safe, especially with a child. When she had sailed for Westeros, she had left those she trusted to begin a new regime in the cities and keep them from falling back into slavery. Daario had been loyal to her and had told her once that she was a conqueror and not made to sit on thrones. Perhaps he had been right.

“And now you come to Volantis?” 

“I heard rumors of a silver-haired woman...and a dragon,” he replied. 

At that, she felt her heart stop. If Daario had received word in Meereen, who else had received those rumors as well? Surely there was some protection here where she had the Red Priestesses that had helped her and shielded her for so long. Her skin paled as she looked at her former lover and ushered him inside. Torgo Nudho was standing guard and glared as he saw Daario. 

“Why did he come?” he asked sharply.

“He heard rumors...about a silver-haired woman and a dragon in Volantis,” she quickly explained before turning to Daario. “Tell me everything you have heard.”

“People whisper about it. No one will outright claim they have seen the Dragon Queen because they fear what may come if they do.” Daario stood in the doorway. “But the rumors persist and there are many who believe that you may one day still save us all.”

“That was just a prophecy told long ago...and the Night King is gone. There is no enemy left to darken the light,” she sighed, shaking her head. Dany had been through too many prophecies in her lifetime to still continue to believe them.

Rhaego was supposed to be the Stallion Who Mounts The World and she was told to be The Princess Who Was Promised. Even her own brother, Rhaegar, had been obsessed with prophecies and insisted that he have another child. Those prophecies had cost her everything. Her mother, her home, her brothers, her husband, her son, two of her dragons, her closest friends, and ultimately, her life. She had little faith in any prophecy now. The only thing she had faith in now herself and the child that she protected. 

“Why have you come all this way?” she asked, looking to Daario.

“I came to protect and serve my Queen,” he replied confidently. 

“I am not a Queen anymore.” The words were hollow, but true. Her claim was given up the moment that Jon Snow stuck a dagger through her heart and she woke in the temple, terrified and pregnant.

“Are you still Daenerys Targaryen?”

“I may be Daenerys, but the Queen you seek died in Westeros,” she said. “I was betrayed and murdered in the very spot I had dreamed about since I was a little girl by a man whom I thought loved me. I was brought back and I am not going back to Westeros.”

“You should lay waste to their cities for their betrayal,” Daario insisted. “You are Daenerys Stormborn…”

“No,” she snapped. “I will not risk the life of the one person I have left. I have lived here, in peace, for eight years. And here is where I will remain.”

He seemed to be taken aback. But Dany was adamant in her claim that she was not going anywhere near Westeros again. Not after the cost she had suffered the last time. The Targaryen dynasty would live on, but on _this_ side of the sea.

“Mai?” Rhaenys called from the other room.

“I’ll be right there,” she called before turning to Daario. “If you had any hopes of me conquering Westeros, then your journey was wasted.”

“You...have a child?” he asked.

“A daughter. And her life means more to me than any land, title, throne, or claim. She and Drogon are all that I have left.”

Daario was speechless as he stood before her, but bowed and left the house. Torgo Nudho nodded to her, a silent understanding that he would follow Daario to ensure that he left Volantis. After he had gone, she came into the room and crawled into bed with her daughter, kissing her forehead.

“Who was that, Mai?”

“No one,” she replied, blowing out the candle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am truly thankful for all of the feedback. I hope you’re enjoying reading this story as much as I have writing it.

“Mai, I will be careful, I promise!” Rhaenys swore. “I just want to see the festival and play with the other children.”

Rhaenys had been negotiating with her mother for over an hour. She wanted to see the festival that celebrated the Lord of Light. Other children nearby were going and she wanted to go with them. There were promises of sweets and all sorts of food as well as colorful silks and music. Rhaenys had never been to the annual festival and wanted to go. She was eight and old enough to go on her own with friends. There were older children going as well, so she would not be alone.

“Rhaenys,” her mother sighed, exasperated. “I just worry about your safety. You know as well as I do that there are those out there that would see us dead.”

“No one would know!” she insisted. “I am just like the other children. And the older children will be there. I won’t be alone!”

Her mother sighed and put down the book in her hand. She came over to Rhaenys, framing her face in her hands. Looking up at her mother, she pouted some, trying to make it apparent how much she wanted to go. Her mother kissed her head and then brought her finger under her chin so Rhaenys looked her in the eyes.

“You May go, but under two conditions,” her mother conceded. “You will be home before dark. And you will tell no one your name. If anyone asks, your name is Rhae.”

She nodded quickly, grinning widely. “I swear it.”

Hugging her mother, she could not contain her excitement as she bounded to her room to change. All of her friends were going to be there and she could not wait to see all of the musicians and the dancers. There would also be fire eaters, which Rhaenys was most excited to see as they reminded her of Drogon. She pulled on her favorite pair of leather pants and a top before adding her boots. Her hair was already tamed and braided, so she ran out of her room. 

“Rhaenys.”

She stopped and looked at her mother. Pausing in her excitement, she came over and hugged her. Though she knew her mother worried, she would be safe. 

“Thank you, Mai,” she said, looking up. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my khalakki. Be safe.” 

When she parted from her mother, she ran from the house to where her friends were waiting. Jumping on the back of one of the horses, she held on and laughed as they rode. The streets were already lined with people waiting. Hundreds had come from everywhere near the city to see the festival. When they found a place, they let their horses rest and climbed down to sit by the street. Rhaenys found a cart with sweets and was able to get one of her favorites, a melon sprinkled with a tart spice. As she sat to consume her treat, she watched as the beginning of the festival approached. Her heart raced with anticipation as she felt the juice from the melon drip down her chin. The other children cheered as the dancers came near. 

Their silks were brilliant shades of red and orange, like a summer sunset or the flames of a fire. Rhaenys watched them, entranced with their motions, thinking about how the flames of the fire danced on a candle. Beautiful, yet dangerous and powerful, just as the Lord of Light was said to be. Bells jingled on their costumes and Rhaenys found herself moving to the beat of the drums and the music. The drums reminded her of her Dothraki family, a place where she felt comfort and acceptance. The music reminded her of home.

The festival continued as people began to mingle about and watch the various performers. Drawn to the fire eaters, Rhaenys watched them in delight. She knew her dragons’ fire was more powerful than any flame made by man, but she was enamored with the way they ate it and then spit fire. Watching intently, she did not notice a boy reaching into her bag trying to take her coins until he moved to run.

“Filkak!” she screamed, running after him. 

Rhaenys ran quickly down the way, weaving through the people on the street. Her eyes narrowed on the boy, who was at least a head taller than she was. But she was not afraid. She was the daughter of the dragon. Jumping onto his back, she wrapped her arms around his neck and forced him to fall. She began to hit him and scream Dothraki insults at him. He moved from under her and threw the money back at her before running away. Standing, she dusted herself off and picked up the coins. She heard clapping behind her and turned. 

“That was impressive,” a woman said. “You are quick on your feet.”

“He stole from me...he was a coward,” she replied. “Cowards are weak.”

“A very wise sentiment. Where did you learn to fight like that?” The woman in front of her wore pants with boots and a vest made of leather. Her hair was tied back.

“My friends,” she said. She had been raised among the Unsullied and the khalasar. No one would let her be defenseless. From the time she could walk, she had been trained on how to use her size and speed to her advantage. The bloodriders of the khalasar had taught her to use the whip and were currently teaching her to shoot a bow. And Torgo Nudho has begun her training with a spear. 

“You must have good friends.”

Rhaenys nodded in reply. She placed her coins in her bag again and tied it up. No one would steal from her again. And that boy would think twice before he stole from anyone. 

“What is your name?” the woman asked, seemingly curious.

“I’m Rhae,” she answered, remembering her promise to her mother. 

“I’m Arya,” the woman replied. 

Nodding, Rhaenys noticed the dagger on her hip and the sword opposite of it. It was rare to see women carry such weapons, especially so openly. She was immediately curious. 

“You carry two weapons?” she inquired. 

“I do,” Arya said, sliding the thin blade from her hip, holding it on her hands for inspection. “This is Needle.”

Cautiously stepping forward, she inspected the blade and smiled. It was thin, but beautiful. Rhaenys had seen many swords in her life, but none that were thin like this. Perfect for a small girl. 

“It’s beautiful,” she complimented. 

“Thank you,” Arya replied. 

“Did you come to see the festival?” she asked.

“I did. I had heard that the festival is colorful and unique.” 

Rhaenys nodded and smiled. “Thousands of people come from miles around to see it. Every year they celebrate the Lord of Light and the blessings he brings to the people. I just love the music and the food.”

Arya laughed, “You sound like me. When I was a girl, I didn’t care about fancy dresses or important lords. The food was always my favorite part.”

“Are you from here?” she asked, curious as Arya’s clothes did not look like anything she had seen.

“I am not. I live on the other side of the sea. In a place where it’s much colder.”

Rhaenys’ eyes widened. She had never experienced the cold, but her mother had told her about it. Winter was brutal with wind that blew so fast it was difficult to see through the snow. And nights so long it seemed like the morning would never come. She didn’t know what it would be like, but she was always frightened when her mother spoke of it. 

“I have never been where it’s cold,” she said innocently. “I like where it’s warm.”

“Me too, but sometimes I miss home,” Arya confessed.

“Then you should go home,” Rhaenys suggested. “Go see your home and your family.”

“I am on my way home, but the journey is long. We are here for a few days to rest.”

Rhaenys nodded, remembering many stopped here on their journeys. Their city followed along many trade routes and was a place of rest for many. 

“If you’d like, I could show you the city,” she offered.

“I would,” Arya stated.

They set out, walking through the city as Rhaenys pointed out all of her favorite places. She showed Arya the merchants that lined the street and where the best places were to find clean water and an inn to sleep. Rhaenys was excited to have a new friend to show her home to and to talk about adventures with. Arya told her how she had sailed all over to many different lands and seen so many different things. To a girl who had only lived in one place her whole life, it was like magic to hear of other places and people. When the sun began to set, Rhaenys knew she had to go back home.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked.

“If you’d like,” Arya replied. 

After agreeing on where to meet, Rhaenys ran home to her mother and told her all about the festival. But she left out the boy who stole her coin and meeting Arya. Her mother didn’t need to know.

* * *

Arya returned to her ship that evening and slipped into her cabin. It had been a long day, but one she had enjoyed. Seeing the world through a child’s eyes was refreshing and reminded Arya of when she was young and had begun to see the world. The little girl she had met reminded her of herself long ago, before King Robert came to Winterfell and she went south with her father and sister.

“Did you see much of the city?” Gendry asked as he looked up from the table where he had been sitting, sketching out a new sword.

“I did,” she replied with a smile. “I saw the festival. I met this...child. Someone stole from her and she chased him down.”

“Remind you of someone?” he asked playfully. 

Arya smirked. “A girl who used to hide in the courtyard to learn to shoot a bow so she could beat her brothers.”

Gendry grinned and stood up, coming over and kissing her. He had been her travel companion for over eight years now as they had wandered far west of Westeros. About a year into their journeys, she and Gendry married. They had met many people and seen many places that were not on any map, but Arya was ready to go home. Part of her longed for Winterfell and for the comfort of her family. She missed Sansa’s chiding and Jon’s jokes. She missed being in the walls that had sheltered her since her birth. And she missed being able to speak to her father in the crypts when she needed guidance. 

“I’m going to meet her tomorrow. She seems very interested in my smallsword. Do you have another one I might teach her with?”

“I think so,” he replied, going over to the corner where they had a trunk and opened it, pulling out a sword he had forged a few years ago. “Ah here.”

“That’s perfect,” she said, smiling. “She’s about the same age I was when I learned, maybe a little younger.”

“She must have really impressed you if you want to give her lessons.”

“She fended off a thief a head taller than she was,” she laughed. “Beat the boy senseless.”

“Sounds to me like she has been taught,” he commented. 

Arya nodded, setting down her dagger and Needle on the table. She removed her belt and cloak before sitting down. 

“In all the places we’ve been, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl her age be so fearless or direct.” 

Arya was a girl no more, but a woman who had seen the world and traveled many places. But coming back to a place she knew felt like she was finally coming home. Westeros had been such a place of hate for a long time and held memories that still pained Arya to think about. But in her travels, she had begun to heal. And now was ready to come back to rejoin her pack. Something about Rhae drew her to the girl. Maybe it was that she saw a younger version of herself in this little girl. A girl who just wanted to enjoy life and all it had to offer. Whatever it was, Arya knew that this little girl was special. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support and comments. I can't wait to take you all on this adventure with me.

For the last few days, Rhaenys had been meeting with Arya. Only for a few short hours as she did not want her mother finding out that she had been meeting with someone who was not of their people.  Arya made her curious about the world outside of the city where she had been born and lived all of her life. She listened to stories of all different kinds of people, places, food, and looked at the treasures that Arya had brought with her. They practiced sword fighting with small swords, Rhaenys quickly picking up the art of the “dance” as Arya called it. It was almost like what Torgo Nudho was teaching her, but with a small sword instead of a spear.

At home, she spent time with her mother, learning the stories of their ancestors. She knew every name back three generations, but wanted to know them all. They were the people she had come from and the foundation of everything that was built. Her mother told her of the first dragons brought to Westeros and how Balerion had been bigger than any dragon seen. Rhaenys could not imagine any dragon bigger that Drogon, yet her imagination ran wild with what Balerion the Black Dread looked like. She imagined Drogon flying in the sky with his brothers, Viserion and Rhaegal, and had hope for the future now that Drogon would have five more dragons to care for and protect soon.

“Mai, will you please tell me about my ave?” she finally asked one night after finding the courage to do so.

Her mother looked at her, almost sad in a way, before coming over to sit down next to her. She brushed her fingers through her hair and kissed her head. 

“Do you remember the story I told you about fighting the Night King?” 

Rhaenys nodded. It was one of her favorite stories. The good had overcome the evil in the world and saved the realm of men by fighting together. Her mother had told her that story many times as it was also the night Ser Jorah gave his life to protect her mother.

“I met your ave before that night...he came to me to ask me for help. On our ancestral home, Dragonstone, there is a mine of dragonglass. It is one of the few things that can kill white walkers. He came to ask for permission to take the dragonglass and to ask for my help in the fight. I had three grown dragons with fire that could kill some of the army of the dead.”

“You lost Viserion to the Night King,” she said solemnly, remembering that story. She dreamed of the great cream and gold dragon that was once named for the uncle that she never met. Her mother had said he was the shyest of the dragons.

“Yes. I went North of the Wall to save your ave because I saw that he was willing to risk his life for the people he was chosen to lead. I admired him because he was true to his word. He was willing to accept my claim to the Iron Throne, but I had already decided to help him. To save mankind.”

“Did you love him?” she asked innocently. 

“I did love him,” her mother said. “In life, we all make choices. And sometimes, those choices are not what is best or right. Your ave made a choice and betrayed me. He hurt me.”

“Is that why you have a scar?” she inquired.

She had seen that scar many times when she was very young, especially when her mother would bathe with her or change. When her mother nodded, she began to realize that the world was not always a good place and that people were not always what they promised to be.

Her eyes began to fill with tears, causing them to sting and burn. “Did...did he hate me?”

“No, no...my sweetling,” her mother reassured her, cupping her face in her palms. “He never knew about you...I did not even know about you until we arrived here in Volantis and came back from the dead. Kinvara was the one who told me that you were still safe inside my belly. I did not think I could ever have children again, but then you were born.”

“Why would he hurt you, Mai?” Rhaenys did not understand why her own father would hurt her mother. She had only ever seen her mother help others. Everyone here loved and respected her mother. No one would have ever harmed her.

“I still do not know...it is something I have asked myself for a long time, my little dragon.”

“Do I look like him?” Rhaenys had always noticed how different that she looked from her mother. Her hair was a crown of wild raven curls where her mother had silver hair. Her skin was not as fair as her mother’s. Their eyes were the same.

“You do. You have the same hair and the same nose,” her mother answered.

“Do you hate me?” she asked, looking down.

“No, absolutely not,” her mother insisted. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Because you see him when you look at me.” Her eyes were watering again as she felt the tears begin to fall down her cheeks.

“Rhaenys Missandei, look at me,” her mother said, bringing her finger under her chin to bring her gaze back up. “There is nothing and no one in this world that I love more than you. When I was brought back, I had lost everything precious to me. But then you came into the world and for the first time in a long time, I had found love again. I would move mountains for you.”

Nodding as she sniffled, she wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck. Her mother gathered her into her arms and held her tight. Rhaenys loved her mother more than anyone and knew that she wanted to be strong like her. Daenerys Targaryen had survived so many things, birthed dragons, freed slaves, built an army, and united the khalasar. Rhaenys wanted to be just like her one day.

“Let’s go check on Drogon and the eggs,” her mother suggested after some time, standing and offering her hand.

“Do you think they have hatched?” she asked. 

“We will have to see when we get there.” Her mother smiled and lead her from their home toward Drogon’s nest.

As they approached, she could see that Drogon was curled. He unfurled himself and made a noise of greeting as she walked forward with her mother. Smiling, she came up and brushed her hand over the side of his snout. In her life, she had never feared him as many would. He was her brother and she trusted him. As he moved his wing, Rhaenys gasped as she saw the crushed remnants of the shells.

“Mai!” she exclaimed, pointing. “The eggs are gone!”

“Look,” her mother said, pointing as Drogon moved carefully to reveal five brand new dragons.

“They are so small, just like you said Drogon was when he hatched,” she giggled.

Five new dragons had came into the world, flapping their tiny wings as they approached. Rhaenys sat down on the ground with her mother, Drogon gazing over them protectively, as the new dragons approached. The smallest, the silver, climbed onto her leg and then into her hands. Gently picking the dragon up, she brought it to face her and brushed a finger under its chin. The dragon purred and leaned into her touch, making Rhaenys smile. A gold dragon approached, it’s wings beautifully lined in emerald, making its way up to greet her. 

“Mai, they’re beautiful!” she said, looking to her mother with a wide grin.

“They are,” her mother agreed, gently holding out her hand to the ruby dragon with black wings. “And they will need training. Dragons are intelligent and loyal, but they must be taught. Remember, we cannot let them hurt any innocent people.”

She nodded, knowing that she wanted to spend her life working with the dragons. These were the gift of her family from Old Valyria. Dragons were intelligent and loving creatures, not the monsters men painted them as. While they could be used for great evil, they could also be used to defend and protect people who could not protect themselves.

The last two dragons approached with their siblings and stood curiously at their feet. A black one with red scales and gold in the wings and a deep, ocean blue creature. Rhaenys loved all of them and promised right then to take care of them all the days of her life. 

* * *

Jon stood outside of the settlement, looking around as there were men working and children running around freely playing. The Free Folk had spent the last eight years rebuilding what had been destroyed by the Night King and his armies. Though they were traveling most of the time, they did have some places to go during times of storms and other dangers. Jon had spent the majority of his time with them the last eight years. Since his banishment, he had gone beyond the Wall and spent time with the people he felt most at ease with. There were times when he still wrestled with the weight of what he had done.

Queenslayer, Kinslayer, Oathbreaker. 

He had become all three with one decision to end the life of the woman he loved. And there was not a day that went by where he did not question and regret his decision to do so. Tyrion had said that everywhere Daenerys went that evil men died and they cheered her for it. Was that not the point? To have a good and just leader after turmoil and cruelty. 

He had told her that she was different than everyone else and he had meant that. It was well known that she had done great things in Essos and that she had torn the foundations of slavery down brick by brick. She had birthed dragons, which had not been seen in over a hundred years, and had united the Dothraki. Jon had been in awe of her when they met and when she came beyond the Wall to save him and the other men, sacrificing one of her children in the process, he knew that she was a good choice to lead. She came North to fight for the living, lending her armies and her dragons to help. And like a fool, he had believed that the North would accept her. 

Through a series of blunders and losses, he had watched the woman he loved succumb to grief and destroy a city full of innocent people. Even now, he could not comprehend it. Dany had never harmed innocent people. She had been ruthless to her enemies, but so had he. Innocents were who she had come to protect and in a split second decision, she had murdered thousands. That was not the woman he had loved. But she had lost her closest advisor, her closest friend, another of her dragons, and Jon himself. He had not been there for her as he should have and that had been his fault. Grappling with the revelation of who his parents were, he had hurt the woman he loved because he could not put aside his own problems to help her with her grieving. 

“Little Crow,” Tormund said as he approached, clapping him on the shoulder. “Everyone is gathering to eat.”

“Aye,” he replied. “I’ll be just a moment.”

Jon watched his friend step back over to the crowd and watched people interact with one another. They were all family and had treated one another as such. Everyone here carried the load of working and protecting the young, the old, and those who could not fight. In that regard, the Free Folk reminded him of the Nights Watch. They protected their own. As he should have protected Dany. 

He watched the women and children and felt a deep sense of anguish. It was something he had not allowed himself to want. His vows had forbidden it and his bastard status had given him pause about fathering any children, but when he met Dany, he had changed. Jon longed for a family with her. To feel the weight of a newborn child in his arms and to have the love of the woman he deeply loved. 

In the moment, finding out his true identity had been jarring for him as he had always thought himself to be a bastard. A Stark bastard. But he never was. He was a true born son of parents who had loved and wanted him. They had loved each other and he had been born out of that love. He was a Stark. He was a Targaryen, meaning both he and Dany were not alone in the world. When she had begged him to say nothing, he should have listened. He should have stayed at her side and helped her build a better world. Together. His decision had cost her everything, including her life. And he knew he would spend his days paying for it. Over eight years had not calmed his guilt. And he knew that it would remain all his life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...get ready. It's about to get crazy.

Daenerys watched her sleeping child’s form as she saw the soft rise and fall of her breathing. It was something she had done often since Rhaenys was born. Her own way of seeing that her child was safe and sound. When she slept, Rhaenys looked most like Jon. Not just her hair and her features, but the way she was at total peace. She smiled in her sleep the way he did. It was something she had remembered from all those years ago. 

For eight years, Dany had been blessed with her daughter and had loved her. She knew that she wanted to protect her from the moment she knew that she was pregnant. Her thoughts had often drifted back to when she was on Dragonstone after the loss of Missandei and Rhaegal. Varys had actively tried to poison her and she had stopped eating. If she had been poisoned, it would have caused the death of her child and ended the possibility that Rhaenys would have ever been born. That thought was enough to make her shudder. 

“Too much excitement?” Torgo Nudho asked as he stood in the doorway with a small smile.

Dany nodded. “She did not want to lay down but once she did, she did not take long to fall asleep.”

Rhaenys had been adamant about staying with the dragons for as long as possible after discovering they had hatched. It reminded her of herself when Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal had hatched. However, she had been the only one that could protect them when they were vulnerable and unable to defend themselves. But she knew that Drogon would be there to protect the young ones and to ensure that no one harmed them or took them. 

“Daario Naharis sends word from Meereen,” he said, holding out a letter for her. 

“Thank you,” she said, taking it from him to read. It was a summary of the last few months of activity. Of course, she knew that dismantling any slavery trade would take time, but she was pleased with the progress in the last few years. The leaders of Meereen had voted to make slavery a crime, punishable by law. “They have decided to make slavery a crime.”

“This is good,” he said. “Missandei would be proud.”

Nodding, she put the letter aside and felt her tears welling up in her eyes. Missandei should have lived to see this day. She should have lived a long life of happiness with Torgo Nudho, visiting the beaches of Naath. Rhaenys should have been able to meet her and love her as much as Dany did as they were all family.

“The Masters will not terrorize the people again without reprimand and punishment,” she declared. 

“You made it possible. You stood up to the Masters.”

When Daenerys had learned about the slavery in Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor, she had decided to stop her mission for Westeros to help those who were in need. Building an army had been important, but she had wanted free men who were willing to fight for her. The Unsullied had been the first of those that she freed and they had choose to follow her and to help others who were once slaves too. Meereen had been the hardest city, by far, to control, but she knew that using her force to show the Masters that she was not one to be trifled with was ultimately the most powerful thing she could have done. The Masters did not listen to reason or to negotiations, so she had done what she considered to be the best at the time to show them that there would be consequences for questioning her authority and her decisions to dismantle their slavery trade.

“I hope that the world is better for the children who come after,” she said, looking back at Rhaenys. 

“It will be,” he assured her. “She is good. And kind, like her mother.”

“I am so proud of her. She has a good heart.” Dany had once been told the same thing. Ser Jorah believer that about her. Sometimes she still caught glimpses of that woman, who she longed to be. 

“She will never have to be sad,” he added. 

“I know that I don’t thank you enough for being here...for protecting us. You are family to us.”

When he had come to her after her resurrection, she had not expected him to stay. But he had insisted and had been here for over eight years at her side. She trusted him with her child, the most precious thing to her. And through the years, he had become the person she trusted the most. He had been there for her and loved her child as his own, teaching her how to defend herself and raising her with the love of Missandei. 

“You are family to me,” he replied, smiling. “I will always protect you.”

“You don’t know how much that means to me,” she admitted. “You are the only person that I could have ever trusted with my daughter. And I know that she loves you.”

“I love her like she was my own,” he said. 

Because of what had been done to him as a child, Daenerys knew that her dearest friend would never father children. But he had loved her daughter as if she was his own daughter and she knew that she could not have chosen a better man to be there for Rhaenys. Torgo Nudho had stood by, watching over her, through every moment of her life from birth. He had watched her take her first steps and celebrated her first name day. And he had taught her to fight and defend herself.

“I will never be able to thank you enough for all you’ve done for us,” she said, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

Turning to her daughter, she smiled and came over, climbing in the bed with her. From the moment Rhaenys came into the world, she had always slept with her daughter near her. Rhaenys curled into her chest, snuggling into Dany. She kissed her head and held her. The last eight years had gone by so quickly and Dany found herself longing for when her daughter was still a babe. Rhaenys had been small, but so strong as she cried. She had held her in her arms for hours at a time, marveling that she had created such a beautiful babe. Now she had grown to a  strong and confident child that was curious about the world and so much in it. Daenerys loved her curious nature, but also cursed it as it made it increasingly difficult to keep her daughter safe. Though, she supposed, it was inevitable as she was both Stark and Targaryen. It was difficult to not see both sides of her daughter’s heritage, but it was painful as it was a reminder of who had hurt Dany the most. Not her brother, who sold her and abused her. Not the men who were sent to assassinate her. Not even the khals who threatened to rape her. But Jon, the man whom she had loved and given her heart to. The man whom she had offered to share everything with because she believed that they could make the world better together. To see so much of him in Rhaenys broke Dany’s heart. But she could never hate her own child. Not when she was so innocent and pure.

* * *

Arya had lingered in Volantis longer than intended, but something kept her here. Something that she had not planned for, but found herself enjoying. Rhae, the girl whom she had met at the festival. It was almost as though she was seeing her younger self, eager and trusting, through Rhae. What she might have been if she had been able to have a normal life. Rhae was a kind child who was quick to learn and even more eager to become faster, stronger, and better. Arya loved teaching her and found that she looked forward to seeing her every morning when they met.

They had began dancing lessons, with Arya teaching her the swift art of using a small sword as her weapon. She was impressed with how quickly Rhae picked up the art and began to excel under her tutelage. It was almost as though the girl was born for it. And the longer she taught her, the more Ayra realized that she had a natural gift. During their sparring, there were moments when Rhae would turn and Ayra could almost swear she looked familiar. Maybe it was the way that the light glinted through her curls or the way she would softly smile when she had won. Arya could not place her finger on it, but she knew that it brought her happiness to see a child happy learning an art that had been forbidden or frowned upon to girls in Westeros.

She had been in Volantis more than a week when she saw a dragon for the first time in over eight years. At first, she thought she might have been dreaming, but it was unmistakable the second time when she saw it flying over the city. The residents of Volantis did not seem bothered or concerned with the dragon’s presence, as they continued about their lives. Arya knew that dragon, though, and it caused her to shudder as she remembered the destruction he caused in Kings Landing. Drogon, the dragon of Daenerys Targaryen. She remembered her brother, Bran, sending her a raven with a letter that they had found him near Volantis, but she had heard nothing further from that since then.

“I still don’t understand why no one is afraid of him,” she said, sitting down at the table with Gendry. “He burned an entire city and killed thousands of people.”

“Maybe he has not done anything here,” Gendry suggested. “He has no rider now, so no one to control him or make him destroy a city.”

Arya nodded. She had read every book she had in the library at Winterfell about the Targaryens and their dragons. Each one stated that the rider and the dragon shared a deep connection that tied them together, like they were one. Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives each had a dragon that they had used to conquer Westeros. Balerion the Black Dread had been loyal to Aegon until his death and then found a new rider in Maegor I, who had claimed him after his father’s death. Drogon would not have yielded to anyone and there were no more Targaryens in the world, save her brother, Jon. 

“He probably has a lair nearby...maybe the city provides him with cattle to hunt and he protects them?” she thought out loud. Dragons were intelligent creatures, albeit frightening ones. 

“Maybe, but he does not seem to be a threat to the people here, so we shouldn’t worry about it,” he added.

Gendry’s words were somewhat comforting to Arya, but she had also seen firsthand how destructive a dragon could be. She was there when Daenerys Targaryen burnt down Kings Landing and killed thousands. Innocent people that Arya had seen killed right in front of her for no reason. The city had surrendered, but the Dragon Queen became the Mad Queen, just like her father. Arya had seen it all. However, she could not blame the dragon for the sins of the rider. After all, he had done what he was commanded to do. Perhaps Drogon had found some peace here.

“You have a raven from Kings Landing,” Gendry said after a few moments of silence, handing her a letter with the seal of the King.

“Bran has not sent me a letter in years,” she said, curious as to why he would suddenly write now.

She took the letter and broke the seal before bringing it to the candle to see. Her brother’s scrawling script ran across the page as she read the words.

 

_ Arya, _

_ The child you tutor is our niece. Her name is Rhaenys Targaryen. _

 

Arya read the letter three times, her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. Rhae was her niece...her flesh and blood. And a living Targaryen.

She dropped the letter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who don't know or can't imply, this is a slow burn fic. Jonerys has spent 5 books apart in GRRM's series so far, so I think a few chapters isn't a big deal.   
> Please enjoy. :)

The truth weighed heavily on Arya as she met Rhae the next morning for their lesson. She suddenly could see very clearly that she was Jon’s child. His daughter. They had the same messy curls and the very same smile. Even her laugh reminded her of Jon. Arya had missed every clue right in front of her. But she had not been looking for a family member. Nor had she expected to find one. And if she had a niece, it also meant that somewhere...Daenerys Targaryen was alive. 

“I win!” Rhae declared, snapping Arya from her trance. “You are distracted. Distraction means you die.”

“You are right,” she agreed. “Come sit with me.”

She walked over and sat down with the child. For the first time, she truly looked into Rhae’s eyes. They were the very same as her mother. The beautiful color of the sea. Arya had envied those eyes as they were nothing like her own. Sansa had even inherited blue eyes from their mother. Rhaenys was every bit as beautiful as both Stark and Targaryen women. Beautiful and headstrong, like Lyanna, Jon’s mother. And Daenerys, her mother.

“What do you know about the dragon who flies over the city?” she asked.

“He is our protector,” Rhae replied. “He keeps the city safe from outsiders who bring war.”

“Does he have a master?”

“A dragon is not a slave!” Rhae snapped. A true Targaryen, defensive of their dragons.

“No, I dare say they are not,” she conceded. “He is magnificent.”

Rhae smiled. “He is. His wings are strong and he does not harm the innocent.”

How little this child knew. She had likely been sheltered here since birth and knew only this world. Arya would have done the same if she had been Daenerys. Robert Baratheon has hunted her family until there was no Targaryen left in Westeros. And after the destruction in Kings Landing, she knew Daenerys had nothing to keep. But...how had she lived? Jon had stabbed her in the heart and she had died. Questions continued to birth more questions in her mind.

“Does he have a rider?” Arya asked. 

Rhae hesitated, “No. He does as he pleases and lives in his own lair.”

“I hope that he has someone looking out for him,” she said. “Dragons are intelligent and beautiful.”

“They are,” the little girl agreed. “Mai says they had not been seen in over a hundred years before he came along.”

“Is that your mother?” she asked curiously. 

“Yes…” Rhae replied, suddenly hesitant again. 

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me things,” she reassured her.

“I promised Mai that I would be safe. She just wants to protect me.”

“You never have to worry about me harming you, Rhae. I swear it,” she said. Arya loved her family and knew she could not hurt her own flesh and blood. Especially not the daughter of the brother she loved most. 

“Mai says there are men out there who would harm us...send people to hunt us down,” her niece explained. “They tried to kill Mai in the past and hurt her.”

Arya nodded, knowing that Daenerys had spent all of her life across the sea being hunted down by Robert Baratheon’s men. All because of her father and his madness and the brother who had stolen away Arya’s aunt. Though the second part was not true in the sense that Rhaegar had not kidnapped Lyanna, the first was truth and history. Aerys II terrorized has people and had personally killed Arya’s grandfather and uncle. She also knew that the Dragon Queen had turned into a tyrant herself when she crossed the sea. She had seen it with her own eyes. But Jon had trusted her. Her brother must have saw something good in her to bring her to Winterfell to help. Arya wanted answers for herself. She needed to know the truth.

“You won’t have to worry about that so long as I’m around,” she promised. “You have my word that you will be protected.”

Rhae nodded and moved forward, embracing Ayra. She wrapped her arms around the child and held her close. This girl, one Arya happened upon by chance, was innocent and kind. She had a good heart, much like Jon. In her travels, Arya had learned that she could not always judge someone by their first impression. Sandor Clegane had taught her that as well. Perhaps it was time for another lesson.

* * *

Daenerys stood near Drogon, brushing her palm over his muzzle as she watched the hatchlings play. They were growing and thriving with Drogon’s watchful eye keeping them safe. All five of the dragons knew that she and Rhaenys were their mothers and that they were the blood of the dragon. The silver had taken a strong liking to Rhaenys and followed her everywhere she went when they visited. Dany thought that the dragon was choosing her rider, just as she and Drogon chose one another all those years ago.

Sitting down, she smiled as the dragons approached her and climbed onto her legs. Seeing them reminded her of Rhaegal, Viserion, and Drogon when they were newly hatched. They were beautiful and strong. Her ancestors would be proud of them as they were like the dragons of Old Valyria. Not weak and sickly, like the last of the dragons had been over a hundred years before.

“Dracarys,” she commanded softly to one of the new dragons, the ruby one with black wings. It tilted its head and then made a chirp before opening its jaws and coughing out a few times before a small spark of flames emerged against a nearby piece of meat. 

She smiled and tickled under its chin. “We’ll need names for all of you soon.”

Leaving the dragons, she made her way home where Torgo Nudho had been keeping watch over Rhaenys. She thanked him and came into their house, finding her daughter asleep in the bed. In her hand was a carved dragon, a gift from one of the Unsullied named Black Water for her name day a few years ago. Rhaenys still loved and cherished it as it was a symbol of their house and their dragons. Brushing some of her curls away from her face, Dany kissed her daughter’s head and stepped into the other room. A shadow caught her attention as she reached for a knife.

“Who is there?” she said, holding the knife in front of her. “Show yourself.”

“If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead,” a voice said in the darkness. “Put down your weapon and we can speak.”

Dany hesitated before placing the knife down on the table in front of her. Out of the shadows stepped a figure and a face she had not seen in over eight years. Arya Stark. Dany felt her heart stop as she shirked back, instincts telling her to run to her daughter to protect her. The Starks had betrayed her and treated her like an outsider from the moment they had met her. Her attempts to mend the bridges burned by her ancestors were met with contempt and hostility from Sansa. And Jon had betrayed her by telling his sisters the truth of his birth, who then told her own advisors. All of that ended with Jon killing her as she had offered to share her power and desire to change the world for the better. There was no reason she had to trust them. 

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” Arya asked in reply. “My brother said he stabbed you. That you died.”

“I did,” she replied coldly. “Your brother murdered me.”

“Jon did what was right,” Arya snapped. “What everyone else was afraid to do.”

“Because I wanted to break the wheel rolling over everyone? Or was it because no one could stand the idea of a woman ruling?” Dany knew people opposed her because of her heritage and what her family had done, but she also knew the families in power did not want to lose control over the smallfolk.

“Because you murdered thousands of innocent people!” Arya exclaimed. “Children and women. The old. The sick. You burned them all just like your tyrant father. I was there, in the city, when you began to destroy it after the bells rang. They surrendered and you massacred them.”

Dany stumbled back, visibly shaken and disturbed by Arya’s accusations. She had never done such a thing. The innocent were who she had come to help, not harm, as she had seen how the smallfolk were the ones who suffered while the people in positions of power thrived and succeeded off of the pain of their people. Dany had killed slavers and rapists. And she had killed soldiers and her enemies during battles, but never innocent people. 

“I didn’t...I couldn’t have,” she said, shaking her head. “I attacked the soldiers and the fleet, but not the innocent people in the city. They surrendered.”

“You burned them all,” Arya insisted. 

Tears formed in her eyes as Dany struggled to remember. She had sat on top of the building atop Drogon as the bells rang, but then there was nothing. No memory if destruction or murder. She remembered the speech, though not all of it, that she gave to her armies. And then she remembered being in the throne room and the Iron Throne in front of her. The next few moments were fuzzy as Jon came in and she could not remember what he had said. All she remembered was begging him to be with her. To break the wheel with her. Jon had told her that she was his queen now and always before he kissed her and then...she felt the pain of the knife. She had looked into his eyes as he killed her. 

“I...I don’t remember,” she admitted. “I can’t see any of that.”

“How can you not remember murdering thousands of people?”

“I don’t know...I remember being on top of the roof when the bells sounded and then nothing. I remember speaking to my armies, but only some of what I said. I came into the throne room after.” There were pieces she had no memory of and it had plagued her mind for years. And no one to tell her what had happened. Torgo Nudho has said that she did not need to trouble her mind with the past, but always hinted that something had happened. Now she knew.

“How did you get here?” The younger woman moved to sit. 

“Drogon…he brought me here,” she answered. “The Red Priestesses brought me back.”

“But why?”

“They said I still had a purpose...to defeat the darkness that still lingers,” she replied.

“What darkness? The Night King is gone. Dead and defeated.” Arya’s brows rose in question.

Dany shook her head, “I still do not know. But I have lived here since, in peace.”

“You have a child,” Arya said, nodding toward the room where Rhaenys was sleeping.

“My daughter,” she said sharply. No one would dare lay claim to her child.

“She is also Jon’s,” the Stark girl countered. 

“He does not deserve her,” she quipped. “Nor will I let him or anyone else have her.” The dragon inside her was rising, viewing anyone else as a threat to the safety of her child.

“He was banished for your murder. To the wall and the Nights Watch. No one has seen him in years.”

“I loved him,” she admitted. “I told your sister that years ago. It’s why I agreed to help and fight the dead. Because I knew it was the right thing to do and because I had fallen in love with your brother.”

“What about when you learned the truth about who he was?” Arya asked. “Did you love him then or think of him as a threat?”

“I still loved him. I only asked him not to say anything because...in our country, men are viewed as more important than women. My entire life had been about coming home. And when I saw a chance to change and to be a better ruler than those who came before me, I worked toward becoming that person. But then...Jon suddenly is the last male heir of House Targaryen. If you have a cock, then you are fit to rule.” 

“That’s not true,” Arya said. “Joffrey had a cock and he was a shit King.”

“Even so...your sister told Tyrion about Jon and he started to plan against me with Varys,” she said bitterly. “By the end of it all, I had lost two of my dragons, my closest friends, and my life. Had it not been for the priestesses, my child would have never lived. Her life would have been forfeit too.”

“Why have you not come back to just burn everything down?” Arya asked pointedly. 

Dany sat down, facing Arya. Daario had asked the same of her just a few weeks ago. But her answer would remain the same.

“Because I’m not my father,” she replied. “I may be a Targaryen, but I am not someone who would spill the blood of innocent people. I’m not Cersei Lannister. And I am not going to risk my life and the life of my daughter and my dragon for a country where I have no love.”

“Aegon the Conqueror, Rhaenys, and Visenya wanted to unite the kingdoms under one rule. People say he was a wise king and left the day to day affairs to Rhaenys and later, his Hand. Not all the Targaryens were mad or cruel. We are not all defined by the family we come from.”

“You are a Stark. So many people tear your family down,” she said incredulously. Starks were loved and respected by the realm. “I was rejected before I was even born. Hated by men who had never met me because I bore the name Targaryen. Hunted down like an animal and forced to live as a slave to my brother’s whims. Sold into marriage and raped. Chained and betrayed at every turn. And told that I was nothing but my father’s daughter. Then murdered at the hands of the man that I loved.” 

“I understand...the Lannisters were not kind to my family. They murdered my father and called him a traitor for telling the truth. They conspired with the Freys and murdered my brother, his pregnant wife, and my mother at a wedding,” Arya replied. “I watched them parade my brother’s body around...with his direwolf’s head sewn on. People are shit.”

“Your brother sits as King. Your sister is Queen in the North,” she pointed out. Even if the Starks had suffered many losses, they still had gained everything in the end. “I may be removed from Westeros but I am aware of what happened. I lost everything I loved and then some. And I still don’t know why because I don’t remember anything about what I am accused of.”

“You honestly cannot remember?” Arya asked, seemingly disbelieving of Dany’s story. 

“No. And if I had murdered thousands of innocent people, I would have remembered it and relived it every night in my dreams because it is a horrible crime,” she said, remembering her words to her advisers. The blood of her enemies would be spilled. Not the innocents.

They sat in silence for some time before Dany looked to the Stark across from her.

“How did you find me,” she finally asked. She knew that she had been careful about speaking to anyone or allowing anyone to know who she truly was that she did not trust. 

“I met your daughter by accident one day...she beat a thief at the festival for the Lord of Light. She reminded me of a girl I knew a long time ago. One who dreamed of dragons and wolves. I did not know who she was...she told me her name was Rhae. My brother, Bran, sent me a raven telling me who she was. That she was our niece.”

Rhaenys had not mentioned meeting anyone named Arya, but then again...her daughter was a curious girl. Arya Stark was not like other daughters of noblemen. She knew how to fight and had traveled far and wide, from what Dany knew. Her daughter would have been drawn to someone who had the same wild spirit. And she knew that one day she and her daughter would likely be found, but she had hoped it would not be this soon.

“What do you want with us?” she asked. 

“I wanted to know some answers...things that I never understood or heard from other people. We never got the chance to speak to one another before...and I was only afraid for the safety of my family. Jon, Sansa, and Bran were the only family I had left. I had only just got them back after being apart for years...seeing our other family members murdered made me afraid for them.”

“I suppose that there are a lot of things that we all should have said or done. Everyone believed that I would kill Jon because of his claim...but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t,” she said, her hands laying in her lap. “I loved Jon. But he...he murdered me.”

“I know my brother...he would never hurt someone that he loved unless he believed that he was doing the right thing,” Arya said quietly. “He carried the weight of that guilt.”

For many years, Dany had tried to make sense of it all. She had gone over every detail in her mind, wondering where she had gone wrong and why Jon would have turned on her to drive a dagger into her heart. Nothing made sense to her until today. If what Arya had said was true and she had done the unspeakable act of murdering thousands of innocents, then Jon would have done...what he had to do. And it killed her to think that she had done such a heinous act that would merit her own murder by the man that she had loved.

“What will you do now?” Dany assumed that she and Rhaenys would have to leave...to run and flee before someone could send assassins after her like they had done all throughout her childhood.

“I made a promise to Rhaenys...that she would never have to be afraid so long as I was around. I keep my promises,” Arya said. “My father taught me honor and that an oath is not something to break. So long as I live, no one will ever hurt Rhaenys. I swear it on the old gods and the new.”

Arya reached her arm across to Dany, who took it with her own as they made their pact. Dany knew that people broke their oaths all the time. Jon had broken his. Sansa had broken hers. She had to place her trust in a Stark once more, but was wary and would always keep one eye open. For the sake of her daughter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it’s taken so long to update! I hope you enjoy the next chapter.

After the tense confrontation with Arya Stark, Dany had agreed to an uneasy truce with the Stark girl. She had promised no harm to Rhaenys, but Dany still did not trust her. Jon had promised her his loyalty and said he had loved her, but in the end that earned her a knife in the heart and a broken one when she was resurrected to realize that he had murdered her. She trusted no one but Torgo Nudho, the Unsullied, and her khalasar. They had all been loyal to her and had protected her and Rhaenys for eight years. Now she could only hope that no one came for her or her daughter. 

The contents of her conversation with Arya weighed heavily on Dany. What if what she had said was true? If it were, that would mean she had killed thousands of innocent people. But why couldn’t she remember it? She no inclination that she had ever done anything like that, which was why she could not understand why Jon had murdered her. But she struggled to understand still. 

“Torgo Nudho,” she said, sitting in the open garden outside of her home. Rhaenys was nearby, reading.

“Yes?” he asked in reply.

“I need to ask you something...and I need you to tell me the truth,” she said. “There is something I have tried to remember for over eight years now and I cannot. I need to know...what happened the day we came to Kings Landing.”

“My Queen...we won a great victory,” he replied. “You destroyed your enemies. We claimed justice for Missandei.”

“Did I...kill innocent people?” she asked, hesitant to know the truth. “When the bells rang and the city surrendered, did I attack them?”

A long silence followed as she looked to her most loyal and trusted friend. When he nodded, Dany felt her stomach turn and her heart sink. Tears formed in her eyes as she realized her worst fear come true. She had hurt innocents, just like her father had done before her. Everything she had worked for and to become had shattered in an instant. Getting up, she moved to the side of the garden and retched, holding the wall to support herself. 

“It was war,” Torgo Nudho said as he came to her side. “Cersei used innocents.”

“But the city had surrendered,” she gasped, still trying to make sense of it all. “Why can’t I remember?”

“I do not know,” he replied, coming over to her side. “But you are not evil person.”

“How can I not be? I killed innocent people,” she said. “That makes me no better than Cersei Lannister.”

“You are not Cersei Lannister,” he insisted. “You freed slaves and killed the masters.” 

“But I killed innocent people!” she countered. 

“It was war,” he said. 

“The city had surrendered…” she said, still trying to not vomit. “I committed a crime.”

Dany had once told Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan that she was not going to have the blood of innocents on her hands. Even if it was war and blood was spilt, it was not going to be the innocent people that she had come to serve. The blood of her enemies was what she had said she would take. 

“But you do not remember this?” he asked. 

She shook her head and looked at him. Though she had tried for many years to remember what happened and to piece together the gaps in her memory, there was nothing she could remember about what had happened after the bells rang. 

“I can’t remember anything until I spoke to the army, but I cannot remember all I said,” she admitted, her voice low so Rhaenys would not hear. “I did not understand why Jon Snow...why he would kill me.”

“He was a traitor,” he spat. “I should have killed him.”

“No,” she said firmly. “He did...what was right. Even if I will never understand, he did what he had to do.”

“He killed you...the Queen he swore to follow.” 

Nodding, a tear slipped down her cheek as she brushed it aside. It landed on her lip and she tasted the salt. She was heartbroken to realize what she had done, feeling the weight of it in her chest. It was as though she could not catch her breath and she was drowning at sea. The crushing feeling that she had done this. She had killed innocent people. She had set a city on fire when they had surrendered, ignoring every law of engagement during war. That made her no better than Cersei Lannister or even her own father. 

“What I did...was terrible and evil,” she gasped. “It is exactly what I came to Westeros to stop.”

“You avenged Missandei and Rhaegal.” He looked at her pointedly, his eyebrow arched. “Cersei Lannister murdered them.”

“Yes, but the people who lived in the city were innocent. They could not control what Cersei did any more than we could control the Night King and White Walkers.” 

Her quarrel had been with Cersei, not the people that Cersei had used to shield herself. Daenerys was merciful and had no desire to hurt others. The blood she had spilled had been that of slavers, rapists, and men who she faced across the battlefields. As a woman who had been bought, sold, beaten, and raped, she had absolutely no desire to inflict harm on others or to make innocent people the casualty of war. But she had. And could not understand why she would do something so drastic without knowing what she had even done. How could she ever live with what she had done? And how could she look her daughter in the eyes one day and admit that she had done this? She was ashamed of herself and of her actions in Kings Landing that day.

When Torgo Nudho was gone, she sat in the garden alone. Her haven in times of sorrow or confusion, she had cared for each flower and tree here personally. Many of them had been planted when she first moved to this home. Her personal favorite had always been the lemon tree that reminded her of the few good memories she’d had as a child. The house with the red door and the lemon tree had been what she had cling to in times of unhappiness or fear. It was a hope she carried with her when she went across the sea. The lemon tree was blossoming nearby, meaning it would bear fruit again soon. She had planted it as a young sapling when Rhaenys was born and moved it here when they had claimed this place as their home. 

“Mai, why are you sad?” Rhaenys’ sweet voice called out. 

She quickly brushed away a stray tear and looked to her daughter. Rhaenys was so pure and good, much like she had been many years ago. She believed in the good in the world and had not seen any of the ugliness that came from hatred, war, famine, or brutality. Dany had wanted to shelter her from that part of life because so much of her own life had been taken from her.

“It’s nothing, just a bit of dust in my eyes,” she lied, putting on a brave smile for her child.

“You cry at night, Mai,” Rhaenys said softly, coming over and climbing in her lap. “You have bad dreams.”

Her daughter was observant for her age, but she had raised her to be that way. They could never be too careful because of all the people who wanted her dead and would use her child to harm her. Sometimes she cursed how she had to rip away some of Rhaenys’ innocence just as her own had been when she was a child. Viserys always instilled in her the thought that anyone could be a traitor and could murder them. She did not understand it then, being so young, but she could now as a mother.

“We all do, little dragon,” she said, kissing her head. “But I have you there to make me smile again when I wake up.”

“Someday, you won’t be sad anymore,” her little dragon promised. 

“Oh but I lost my sadness when you were born,” she said, tickling her sides. Rhaenys squealed with laughter. “You are my joy, Rhaenys.”

“I love you,” the little princess said.

Dany pressed her lips to her daughter’s head. “I love you.”

* * *

The North winds blew and whipped around Jon as he sat atop his horse. Ghost stalked ahead silently as they hunted together as one. These hunts were solitary, but comforting in a way that he knew he yearned for. Peaceful and quiet. Jon had not had peace in his entire life until the last few years. Even then, his mind still wasn’t truly going to allow him any kind of rest. It would forever haunt and punish him for the acts he committed in Kings Landing. He had done the worst thing imaginable and people still told him he had done the right thing. That Dany, whom he believed to be kind and good, was a monster that needed to be stopped. He regretted what he had done every second after he had done it.

At night, he still dreamt of her. The silver hair that flowed down her back in soft curls and her beautiful eyes that yearned for love. He would get lost in her eyes, watching them as they would shine in the shadow of her children. The melody of her laugh rang out in his mind and the vision of her smile...it haunted him as he wished he could forget, but was cursed to forever remember. They had both been denied of knowing their parents and having the love of their mothers. And they had both followed this journey of realization that they could and should help others. It was as if they had been destined to meet. He could see her sleeping form next to him at night in his dreams and would reach out for her, longing to hold her. What could have been lingered in his mind. A home. A child. They would have looked like her. Silver hair and eyes like the sea. A princess like her mother had been, who would someday become a Queen. Perhaps a son too. But that would never be. He would never know what it meant to be a father.

“Ghost,” he called, looking to his wolf. “Let’s go back. It’s time to eat.”

They rode in silence back to the settlement, snow crunching beneath their tracks. The winter winds were receding, but the North would always be cold. When he stopped, he brought his horse inside to dress him down, removing the saddle and placing a blanket over him. Ghost trotted behind him as he came into the small tent. He removed his cloak and sat down by the fire to get warm, feeding Ghost a piece of meat. 

“Little Crow,” Tormund called from outside. “You have some news from below the wall.”

Jon opened the tent and saw his friend standing in front of him, holding a scroll. He handed it to him and gave him some ale before they parted again. Opening the scroll, she recognized the scrawling script. Arya.

_ Jon, _

_ Do you know how hard it is to find you? Impossible for anyone but me. I have missed you. Meet me at The Wall on your name day. _

_ -Arya _

This was the first he had heard from his youngest sister in over eight years as she had been traveling West. When they had parted last, he had not expected to see his family ever again. His name day was a little more than a moon away. He was not surprised Arya remembered. She always did when they were children and always made sure she had something for him, much to the dismay of her mother. It had been too long since he had seen family and he yearned for that connection to them.

“Your family?” Tormund asked.

Jon nodded, “My sister. She is coming to meet me at The Wall.”

“The red headed sister?” 

“No, Arya. The youngest.” Jon rolled the scroll and placed it in his belt. “She was traveling West the last I saw her. But she is back in Westeros and wants to see me.”

Tormund smiled and nodded. “It’ll be good for you to see her. Family is important.”

Jon agreed, knowing that family was what mattered most to his father, the man who had raised him. Eddard Stark had taken the secret of Jon’s identity with him to the grave, fulfilling his promise to Jon’s mother to protect him. Jon understood the promise that was made and why Ned had made him a bastard. Learning the truth about his parents had made him question things about himself. All of his life, he had been a bastard, but in a matter of moments he learned that he was the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. His parents had loved each other and he was not a bastard child. Though he had no desire for power, the revelation of his parentage had destroyed the woman he loved. Dany had been right...people plotted and tried to use his parentage to place him on the throne. And used him to end the life of the one person who might have actually changed Westeros for the better, who was and always had been, his family. 

At times, he still wondered if any of it was worth it or if it had even been the right thing to do. Perhaps one day he would know. For now, he had hope to see his sister soon. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that I have been absent. I had some very personal things happen to my family that caused me to lose my desire to write for a while. But I'm back and hoping that you enjoy this next chapter.

The screech of another dragon caught Rhaenys’ attention as she held one of her dragons in her arms. Looking over, she saw her ruby dragon hopping around and flapping its wings as it chased one of its siblings, the gold and emerald. Her silver was curled in her arms, contentedly purring. They were all growing, but still very much hatchlings in comparison to Drogon. The black shadow was always nearby, guarding and protecting his family. A constant presence in Rhaenys’ life, she trusted him and looked to him for safety. No one dare cross a dragon. Especially one as large and frightening as Drogon was. 

“I think I shall name you Moonfyre,” she said, gently stroking the dragon in her arms. “You look like you were kissed by the moon. Silver like the hair on Mai’s head.”

“A strong name,” her mother agreed, smiling from nearby.    
They had been discussing names for their five new dragons. Rhaenys had put off naming them as she wanted to spend time with them to learn what they were like. Her mother had named her dragons for three men in her life that she had lost. Men that Rhaenys had never met. Viserion was named for her Uncle Viserys, a man that her mother described as cruel. He often lashed out in anger at her mother, especially in times when they were desperate and hungry. Rhaegal for her Uncle Rhaegar, who fought valiantly at the Trident and died. But also for Rhaego, the brother she had never known, who was stolen from her mother before he could be born. And Drogon, for her mother’s first husband, a man who she said taught her to be strong. Her dragons needed names with meaning.

“And the ruby shall be Bloodfyre,” she declared. “After our words. Fire and blood.”

The words of House Targaryen were ingrained in Rhaenys, like a poem she had long known. Her mother said that they were words of strength and the foundation of their house. Their ancestors had conquered Westeros with blood and fire, so they too would live their lives by that mantra. Passed down from generation to generation. And she knew that one day she might bring her house honor once more, when her dragons were grown. The blood of Old Valyria was very much alive in her, flowing like a river, strong and true.

“The gold with emerald wings like butterflies...I want to name Missanderys, after the friend you lost, who comes from the green Isle of Naath.”

Her mother nodded proudly, her eyes filling with tears. Missandei was Rhaenys’ own namesake and she knew stories of the translator from Naath who had become her mother’s closest friend and confidant. She longed to have met her and oftentimes dreamed about what she might have looked like. Torgo Nudho said she had been beautiful, with dark hair that curled, and a smile that would make any dark day brighter. He had said she was tall and that her eyes were like the brown of her hair. Her dragon would live on in this world, honoring her memory.

“The black and red I shall call Rhaellys,” she said. “After the mother you never knew. She was kind and good, so she will live on in her dragon.”

Her mother had talked about her own mother scarcely, never truly knowing much about her. She had died when her mother was born and only stories that Viserys had told her were what she knew about the woman who had given birth to her. Rhaella had been kind and loving, much like the dragon Rhaenys had named for her.

“And the blue?” her mother asked.

“Mhysa,” she replied proudly. 

Her mother had been the biggest part of her life from the beginning, raising her to be courageous and compassionate to others. She was strong and had overcome many obstacles placed in her path, including losing everything before she was even born. But her mother had found a strength and tenacity to survive where others would have given up hope and the will to live. They were the blood of the dragon, born in fire and raised in the flames. She could see the tears welling in her mother’s eyes as she nodded and smiled proudly.

“A good name,” she replied, brushing some of Rhaenys’ curls away from her face. 

“We are the blood of the dragon,” she said, grinning. “Fire and blood are our words and we have lived in both.”

“We have,” her mother confirmed. “And we will continue to defend our family and our dragons. You and I are the last of our blood.”

“And we are proud,” she added, smiling as she looked down at Moonfyre. “I love them all, just as you loved Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion.”

“They are beautiful and intelligent,” her mother mused, reaching her hand out to Missanderys. “Dragons deserve protection and guidance, just as children do. Our House made mistakes in chaining them up before and hiding them away. But we know better now.”

“Mai, one day when Moonfyre is bigger, we will fly together,” she promised. “Maybe see more of the world?”

“I don’t think so, my little khalakki. The world is a dangerous place for us.” Her mother’s expression was solemn and long. “There are many people who would do us harm because we are Targaryens.”

“Why Mai?” Her heart was curious and longed to know why her family was so hated. Her mother was not the man that her grandfather had been. Nor was she her cruel brother.

“There are things in the world that you need to understand...truths that are cruel to your innocence that I have shielded you from because you have always been so young.”

Her brow furrowed as she looked at her mother, searching for answers. For so many years, Rhaenys had wondered why so many hated her mother when she knew nothing but love and kindness from her. The pain in her mother’s eyes told her that it was bad.

“I am not afraid,” she said, looking at her mother with fierce determination and pride.

“You have never been afraid of anything, my little khalakki,” her mother said, smiling through her tears. 

“Why do people hate us?”

“No one could ever hate you,” her mother insisted. “You have done nothing wrong. You are simply the victim of hate because of what I have done, like I was after my father killed innocent people with wildfyre.” 

“Mai, you never hurt anyone!” Her voice was trembling as she realized she had tears in her eyes. 

“There is something that I did do. I harmed innocent people...when I went to Kings Landing. I promise you that I did not do this intentionally. I don’t remember anything about what happened, but Torgo Nudho was there...he told me that it was true.” Her mother looked at her, solemnly with tears on her cheeks. “I used Drogon...to burn the city.”

“But if you don’t remember, how could you have done it?” she asked, her mind racing with questions.

“I don’t know, but I believe him.” Her mother was stoic and sad, her eyes full of regret and pain. 

Her heart ached as she looked to her mother, the one person in all the world who had loved her from the moment she came into this life. Her mother had never harmed anyone. She treated others with fairness and love. Rhaenys had seen this herself so many times over her life when people came to her mother for help or for protection. The Unsullied told her how Daenerys Stormborn freed them from their masters and gave them their lives back to choose what they wanted to do and who to follow. They chose her. Rhaenys did not understand what had happened or why this would be any kind of truth. But it broke her heart as she reached over for her mother.

“I still do not believe you would ever hurt someone on purpose, unless you were protecting me...or someone you loved,” she insisted.

“You see the world in black and white, my little dragon...but someday you will understand,” her mother promised. “Someday I will too.”   
  


* * *

Journeying to The Wall was not something Jon had done in a long time. Years ago, he had left Castle Black with no intention of returning. He wanted to be the bastard beyond the wall, where he could live his life in peace with the Free Folk and try to make sense of what had happened to him through the last few years. Though time and distance had mended some of the wounds that Jon held, it did not cure him of all that had pierced his heart. Daenerys still haunted his dreams almost every night, reminding him that he had been the one to drive a knife into her heart and end her life. 

Shaking the thought from his mind, he pulled the reins of his horse to bring her to a stop, looking down at Ghost, who trotted loyally alongside him. It was his name day. Though he had stopped really thinking about them long ago, when he had become a man, today was important to him as he would see Arya for the first time in over eight years. She would be the first sibling he had seen since his banishment and though he felt guilty for thinking it, he was glad that it would be her. They had shared a common bond all of her life as they both felt like outsiders at Winterfell. He, raised as a bastard, and she, a girl who wanted nothing to do with becoming a lady. They had become close and she had made him so proud with who she had become and how she had defended their family.

“Easy boy,” he said gently as Ghost’s throat lurched with a growl, indicating an approaching party. It was a pair of white and brown horses, two riders. Jon could see through the fog that it was Arya and Gendry. Eight years older and wiser...but still very much the same as he had remembered them.

Dismounting his horse, he walked up to his sister as she slid off her horse and embraced her. Eight years was a long time, but he knew that it was worth it to come this far to see her face once more.

“You’ve hardly changed,” he chuckled, looking down at her. “Northern furs and boots. Like Father.”

Arya smiled, “You haven’t changed either. Maybe a little older and more wild, but still my brother.”

“Gendry,” he said, holding out his arm to greet the Baratheon. “You look well. Travel suits you.”

“I would not trade it for the world,” Gendry replied, looking to Arya as he smiled.

“How big is the world beyond Westeros?” Jon asked, curious to know what his sister had seen. 

“There are so many places out there,” she replied. “People of all different kinds. Gendry and I met with all kinds of leaders, healers, and just…people. The languages are beautiful and their lives are colorful.”

Jon could not imagine life outside of Westeros. Perhaps that was the Northman in him. Those in the North were not apt to travel South often. No one was like the North. Or maybe it was just himself. He had always wanted to live out his life at Winterfell, loyal to the family he loved. His brothers and sisters. His father who had raised him. But that had not been what fate had decided for him. He was a man of the North, through and through, but he was of the Free Folk now. The real North.

“I want to hear all about it,” he said sincerely. 

They made their way inside the outer wall of Castle Black. Jon greeted some of the Watch that still knew him and then came into the hall. A fire was going, so he, Arya, and Gendry got something to eat before sitting down and talking about their travels. His sister shared stories of the people they met and he told her about the Free Folk settlements beyond the Wall and his travels across the vast lands beyond the Wall. And they fell into a comfortable conversation, just like no time had passed between them, sharing what news they had of their family in Kings Landing and Winterfell. When Gendry retired for the night, Arya and Jon continued to talk by the fire.

“When I got your letter, I was surprised...it has been so many years since I have seen anyone from our family,” Jon admitted.

“I know...and I’m sorry,” Arya apologized.

“It isn’t your fault. We all went through a lot.” 

Their family had suffered many things at the hands of those in power. Their father had been beheaded for a crime he didn't commit. Robb, his wife and unborn child, and Catelyn were all brutally murdered at a wedding. Sansa had been kept in Kings Landing with the Lannisters and treated like a prisoner. She had been married off to the Boltons and raped, beaten, and tortured. Arya had been through only the gods knew while she was away. And even he had been through losing family members while he was helpless to do anything at the Wall. He had lost Ygritte and then his own life. And then he lost Dany.

“I admit that there is a reason that I wanted to come see you. There is something that I have to tell you and I did not want to write it in a letter.”

Jon looked to his sister, perplexed about what she had to say that could possibly warrant a visit to him after all these years.

“Jon...Daenerys Targaryen is alive,” she said.

The name Daenerys had not been uttered by anyone to Jon since his banishment. Since he and Tyrion spoke after he had murdered her in the throne room in front of the Iron Throne. Hearing it come from his sister’s lips caused him to pause, his ears ringing. When his mind comprehended what she had said, he shook his head in disbelief. That could not possibly be right. He had killed her. Jon had been there and had thrust the knife into her heart himself, holding her in his arms as she died. He watched her take her last breath and felt the instant regret for what he had done.

“No...I was there, Arya, I killed her,” he said, continuing to shake his head as he looked to his sister. There were no smiles of illusion or lies. “H-how?”

“A Red Priestess brought her back...she said that Drogon took her to Volantis and she was brought back,” she explained, her voice sincere and truthful.

The Red Priestess...Melisandre was a Red Priestess and she had brought him back from the dead after he had been murdered by some of the men of the Watch. He remembered waking in the middle of a cold room, Ghost at his side. It was jarring and he had been disoriented, but he had familiar people there with him. He had Ghost too, as well as the brothers of the Watch that had remained loyal to him. Tormund had been there. They were able to ground Jon and help him transition back to the world of the living. Who had been there for Dany? Would she have gone through that alone? He was pulled into his own thoughts as he thought about the implications of her being alive.

“Jon, she does not remember what happened in Kings Landing,” his sister said. “She had no idea what she did...and I am not an easy person to lie to. I believe her.”

“How would she not remember?” he wondered, knowing he remembered what happened to him before he died. 

“I don’t know, but her reaction was sincere. She was appalled when I told her what happened.”

There was no sane reason that Dany would not remember killing thousands of innocent people. Every person he had met that was a murderer remembered their crimes. Even bragged about them, like Ramsay Bolton did. But when he had said something to her in the throne room about children, her words seemed...out of place to him. Like she had completely shut down and there was someone else in her place. She had always cared about the well-being of innocent people. People that she had come to help and to serve. Even he thought it odd and not like the Daenerys he knew for her to not care, but made what choice he had to in that moment.

“There’s more…” Arya said, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“What do you mean?” 

“She has a child.” 

Jon’s thoughts immediately halted as he looked at Arya. Daenerys had told him once that she could not have children and that her dragons were the only children she would ever have. He had told her that perhaps the witch that had cursed her was not the best source of information. It seemed as though he had been right.

“Is it…”

“Yours?” Arya asked, finishing his question for him.

He nodded, holding his breath as he braced himself for the answer.

“Yes,” she replied. “You have a daughter.”

Jon sat back as the news hit him full force that he was a father. He had a child. A daughter that he never knew about and had never met, but was living with Daenerys in another land. For so many years, he had been afraid to have a child because he had been a bastard. But when he met Daenerys, he had allowed himself one small dream. A child of their own. Maybe with her silver hair and his eyes. Or his mess of curls and her blue eyes. It was a dream that came to a halt the moment he stepped into the throne room and he had not allowed himself to think about since. Until now. Jon Snow was a father. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I've been sick, in school, and about to move! Here is the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Standing on the deck of the ship bound toward Volantis, Jon looked out at the horizon as the sun was dipping below the water. He had found out less than a few days prior that he was a father. The thought of that was sinking in. A child that was his was out there and he had never even known about her. Though he could not blame Daenerys for keeping her a secret all of these years. No one had been kind to her in Westeros, even after she had come to save their lives against the dead. And he had been the one to drive the knife into her heart at the end of it all. He struggled to understand how it was the right thing to do. To understand how Dany, who had one of the purest hearts he had ever known, could have turned on the people she had come to serve. 

In the end, she had been right about everything. His identity had been used as a weapon against her by the very people who swore to serve and guide her. And it was Daenerys who paid the price. A price he would have gladly taken back knowing now the things he knew. 

“You know, even after all these years, I can tell when you have something on your mind,” Arya said as she came to stand beside him.

He offered a small smile. “Just trying to...make sense of it all. I was born a bastard...well, raised as one. Even when we were young, I didn’t want to father a child that would live that same life.”

“Your daughter isn’t being raised as a bastard,” she replied. “So many people love and protect her.”

“I don’t even know her name,” he said.

“Rhaenys. After Aegon the Conqueror’s youngest wife...she rode the dragon Meraxes.”

Jon nodded and smiled a little. “A good name. Dany chose well.”

“She is a good mother, Jon,” she reassured him. “Rhaenys is protected and loved. No one protects or loves her more than Daenerys.”

Daenerys had told him she could never have children, so he knew how precious their daughter would be to her. He envied that she had been able to be there her whole life while Jon never knew she existed. If he had known...he shook the thought from his head. Daenerys would have never allowed him to get close. After what he had done, he expected to be killed on sight. But he had to try...he had to see them both. 

“You did what you thought was right,” she added after a lull of silence. “With what you knew and saw, what else could you have done?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “When I spoke to her...it was as if she was not the woman I knew. But there were moments when she was...”

When she was asking him to be with her. To build a new world with her...he saw the innocence and faith in her eyes that he had seen after he had woken up on the ship bound for Winterfell. For a brief moment, he saw the woman he loved. 

“She killed people, Jon. Thousands of innocent people that had nothing to do with Cersei or anyone else,” his sister defended. 

“You said she did not remember doing so,” he reminded her. 

“I did. And I don’t think she does...but I don’t know why,” Arya replied honestly. 

“The thought of her not knowing...that I killed her when she was innocent...”

A silence fell between them, words failing to describe what had happened and what they knew now. The truth had come as a surprise to Jon and he was struggling to understand it. Ygritte once said he knew nothing. And she was right, as he had been kept in the dark about his heritage, but it had cost him more than he ever thought. Daenerys had been right to assume it would take on a life of its own. But as a kinslayer, Queen slayer, and betrayer, no one else knew his true identity as Aegon Targaryen. He could not help but wonder what might have happened had he heeded her pleas to not tell anyone. Would they have been happy? In his heart, he knew without a doubt that he would have married and loved Dany. His identity had been a surprise to them both, but it did not change what he felt for her. Perhaps he could have seen his child born and raised her as a true father. 

“She is a bright child,” Arya stated, after some time passed between them. “She speaks many languages fluently and learns quickly on her feet. I’m sure Daenerys taught her High Valyrian and Dothraki at the very least. She is a loving girl too, surrounded by friends and mentors that take good care of her.”

“Does she look like me?” He just could not picture any child bearing his resemblance in truth.

His sister nodded and laughed, “With the same mess of dark curls and all. But with Daenerys’ eyes and the same smile.”

He felt a lump in his throat, the words caught there as he could not form them in his mouth. In his mind, he could see her. A slight girl with dark curls and the same piercing and beautiful eyes as her mother. And Dany’s smile… He could see her with skin light as snow, just as his own and Daenerys’. As a boy, he longed to know his mother and longed for the love she might have had for him, so he wondered if his daughter felt the same. Or had Dany told her of his sins? Would she hate him? The thought of his own child hating him made his blood run cold.

“Does she mention a father?” he asked, hesitant of the reply.

“No. Only Grey Worm and a few of the Dothraki blood riders that she is close to. They seem to be...almost uncles to her.” 

Jon nodded, thankful in a way that at least she did not have another father. He chastised himself for the thought as he knew he could not blame her if she had loved another father who had been there. Ned Stark has acted as his father all of his life and had raised Jon, so how would it be any different for Rhaenys if she had a man who had helped raise her?

“You do know this is complete madness...what you’re doing, right?” Arya asked. “Daenerys will probably kill you the moment you set foot in her sight.”

He nodded, “I know, but I have to at least try to make things right. For the sake of my daughter.”

“And because you still love her.”

He paused, unsure of what to say. Arya knew him better than almost anyone. Better than any of their siblings as they had always been close and felt a common bond of being an outsider. There was no denying when he brought Dany to Winterfell that he loved her. He saw her for who she truly was. A good and just woman with a heart that had been hurt many times but still continued to give for the good of her people. Just as his own had been. 

“I wanted you to know her as I did...to see her for what she truly was,” he stated. “I never told you how she lost one of her dragons saving my life from the Night King.”

“She did?” Arya seemed surprised.

“No one asked why she only came to Winterfell with two dragons when everyone knew she had brought three to Westeros.” 

“What happened?”

“We created a plan to bring one of the dead to Kings Landing...to show Cersei the stories were true. A few of us went North beyond the wall to capture one. It went badly and we were surrounded by the dead, about to die,” he explained, looking to his sister. “Daenerys had flown North with her dragons to save us, using dragonfire to kill the white walkers and help us to safety. The Night King speared one of her dragons...Viserion.”

“I didn’t know…”

“Because no one asked or cared to ask,” he replied, more sharply than intended. “You, Sansa, and everyone else were more concerned with making her feel like an outsider. She saved our lives and offered her dragons and her armies to defend the living.” 

“She demanded we all bend the knee,” Arya defended.

“Because it was her birthright and her duty.” The words were sour in his mouth. Duty was the death of love…

“It was yours. You were born for it.”

“No, I wasn’t. I didn’t want that. Birthright or not, I did not want to be a King. I supported Daenerys because she was who I believed deserved it. After all of the shit rulers, she was the one who wanted to make things better for everyone. Not just the lords and ladies.” 

Neither he nor Dany had grown up with the rights that they had been born to. He was a bastard in the North and she an exiled princess who was constantly running from assassins because of her name and who her father was. She had grown up alone and afraid while he at least had a family. Ned ensured he was educated and that he was part of the Starks while still being separate and different. Daenerys had only her brother, who he understood was cruel and sold her into marriage for an army to take back the Iron Throne.

“She demanded we bend the knee though. She threatened anyone who didn’t,” Arya countered. 

“How is that any different than father commanding the North? He demanded respect and loyalty for the Stark family, who have been wardens in the North for hundreds of years like the Targaryens sat on the Iron Throne,” he said. “She gave people a choice in who they could follow. And it was open warfare. We all have killed people and sentenced people to die as leaders…”

He knew he had as Lord Commander of the Nights Watch. He had sentenced men to die and had executed men for their traitorous actions against him. Arya had enacted revenge for the Red Wedding from what she had mentioned to him before and things Sansa and Bran had said. They had all done terrible things in the name of justice or what was right. Daenerys had come to Westeros to take back what belonged to her family and to help people. She said that they could only help from a position of strength, which was sometimes terrible. He, of all people, understood that burden. 

“If she is innocent of what happened in Kings Landing, this means that what I did...it was all for nothing.” He shook his head.

“It wasn’t for nothing...you caused change.”

“How is it any different? The lords and ladies are kept in their high places while the small folk still starve and have no place to go,” he said bitterly. “The only thing that changed was Bran is now King and he can see everything.”

Dany had wanted to break the wheel that ran over every person in Westeros. She wanted to give everyone a voice and listen to both the small folk and the highborn. It was what a good ruler did and what he liked most about her desire to rule. He loved her for her ability to care for all people, not just those with a name and title. She had loved him when he was just a bastard. Unlike everyone else from his childhood at Winterfell, except Arya and his father Ned, she treated him with respect and as an equal in some sense. 

“I think she still loves you...for what it’s worth,” Arya said after a long silence. 

“How could she after what I did?” he asked, honestly unsure of his sister’s statement.

“Because you gave her a child. And because she understands why you did what you did.” 

“Even if she does...I doubt she will ever trust me again,” he sighed, going below deck to retire for the night.

* * *

For a while, Daenerys allowed herself to feel more comfortable. Rhaenys was growing and becoming stronger every day, as were their new dragons. The hatchlings reminded her of Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal when they were brand new. Small, but fierce in their love for their mother. Moonfyre, Bloodfyre, Missanderys, Rhaellys, and Mhysa were all the size of large cats as they were well fed and had plenty of room to wander. And all five had a deep love for Drogon and Rhaenys. 

Watching over them as they played and ran around testing their small wings, Daenerys felt proud that she had been able to see that dragons were brought back into the world. Many were afraid of her children, but they were beautiful and intelligent, much like human beings. Drogon bonded with her from the moment he hatched, just as Moonfyre had done with Rhaenys. 

“Mai, when will the dragons start to fly?” her daughter asked.

“Not for a while, little one,” she replied. “But they will start to grow quickly and continue to grow the rest of their lives.”

Her daughter nodded. “And we will protect them, just as they protect us?”

“Yes,” she said. “Our dragons are our blood, just as we are theirs. It’s why we are the dragon’s daughters. The blood of Old Valyria.”

She had taught her daughter well the stories of their family, how they had come from Valyria before the Doom. And how their family had been the only dragon riders in all of Westeros. Dragons had been used for war and for political gain, but she had learned her lesson well that she could not continue to do so. Her own folly had cost her the lives of Viserion and Rhaegal, but she would not see the deaths of Drogon and his children.

“Do the other houses in Westeros have something like dragons?” Rhaenys asked as she stroked Moonfyre’s spine.

“Not all of them...they have their sigils, of course, like ours is the three-headed dragon, representing Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya who established our house as the head of Westeros. The Lannisters have the lion, full of pride yet their strength comes from their lionesses. The Baratheons are the stag, strong yet stubborn, often butting heads with one another. The Greyjoys are the kraken, a powerful sea monster, representing their power on the seas. House Martell is the sun with a spear, representing their intelligence and prowess with a spear on the battlefield. House Martell is the only house that resisted our ancestors for any length of time. House Tyrell was the rose...beautiful, but when you pluck one, a thorn stabs you for your crime,” she explained.

“What about House Stark?” Rhaenys inquired innocently.

Daenerys looked down, collecting her thoughts. “The direwolf. Wolves are loyal to their own pack and are strongest when they are together, just as the Stark family.”

“Do they all hate us?” Her daughter’s innocence had been waning for some time. She knew that someday she would ask questions about why they lived in exile. The truth had been revealed, but Rhaenys was still so young.

“Not all of them...we had friends,” she explained softly. “The Tyrells and the Greyjoys. They had pledged their help and their houses to ours. And the Martells, after Ellaria Sand came to me for assistance in avenging the death of her love.”

“Why would they not help us now?”

“Most everyone still believes that I died, my little one, and I would prefer that they do...so many people would come after you and our dragons because of me. And I would never want anything to happen to you or to them.” 

“Maybe one day, when I’m older, I can show them that they were wrong about our family,” Rhaenys declared. “They do not have to be afraid of us. Or our dragons.”

Dany smiled at that a little and held out her hand to her daughter. “Maybe one day, but for now...we are safe here and no one can hurt us so long as we keep our lives a secret.”

 

Her daughter nodded in understanding as she continued to tend to her dragons. Dany watched her in silence and remembered how thankful she was that she had been given a second chance. Rhaenys was the joy in her life and she hoped that no one would take that away from her. Everything else had been ripped from her, so she would not be able to survive losing her daughter too.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my long absence! I have moved and school is kicking my butt. Hopefully you enjoy this update and look for more in the future!

Volantis was a stark difference to the North and even beyond the Wall. Jon stood on the deck of the ship as they docked, thinking of how it reminded him of King’s Landing with the warmth and the difference in people. There were all different sorts of people, from fishermen to tailors and craftsmen. There were the same sort in the North, of course, but the atmosphere was different. The Northerners were a much stiffer people, hardened by the many winters they had seen and the vast expanse of land between groups of people. Here, people seemed to know one another and to spend more time exchanging conversation as well as goods. Jon could see why Daenerys would like it here. It was warm, inviting, and a place where she could find happiness away from the harshness of the homeland that rejected her without even knowing her. The people also seemed to be more welcoming, which was something to be desired of the North.

When they docked, Jon exited the ship with Arya and Gendry, looking for a place to stay for the night. An inn had two rooms available, which they paid for and were able to settle into. Jon did not want to ambush Daenerys without knowing what he was getting himself into. He also did not want to cause her distress as he knew it had been a long time since they had seen one another. The last time had been one that he would never forgive himself for and would not blame her if she did not either. But he had to try. At least for the sake of his daughter and because he still loved Daenerys. 

“I don’t often admit that I’m wrong, but I was wrong,” Arya said as they ate dinner together. “We should have been welcoming to Daenerys and her people.”

Jon was surprised to hear as much from his youngest sister, but he knew that Arya was sincere. She had always been honest with him, even when she had changed so much from the girl he had left in Winterfell when he went to the Wall all those years ago.

“She offered her help to us without expecting us to bend the knee, as you said, but you promised her we would. Because that’s what Father would have done,” she continued. “Instead, we treated her like we treated Cersei. As an outsider.”

“We all had reason to fear one another, but sometimes you have to take a risk and trust someone. I...had faith in her.” He knew that he did because she was willing to take a risk to rescue his life and sacrificed the life of one of her own children as a result. “She put her people first. As a Queen and ruler, she always thought about her people.”

“They say she killed the Masters in Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen. Everyone whispers her name here like she is a goddess,” Arya said. “In Meereen they still call her their Queen. Children are named for her every year and slavery no longer exists as it once did. Every man and woman is paid for their work at a fair price. And they choose their leaders...it is unlike anything in Westeros.”

Jon nodded, knowing that she had set into motion the change and elimination of the slave trade during her time there. She had put bad men to death, much as he had done himself when he was on the Wall and even after he had left. Tyrion had wanted to murder her for it, but who were they to be her judge? Had they not put others to death themselves? Tyrion killed his own father and his lover in a jealous rage. He executed the men responsible for the mutiny that resulted in his own murder. Even his own brother, Robb, had executed men who were disloyal to the Stark cause. But they had done so in good faith that what they were doing was just and the right thing. Daenerys had done the same.

“The first time I saw her, at Dragonstone, I was...amazed by her strength and resolve. She never wavered in the faith she had in herself,” he said, looking at the spoon he held in his hand as he ate. “During her time in exile, she went through things that no child should ever have to endure.” 

Arya nodded. “Maybe it’s why she chose to help those in need instead of the highborn like every other leader.”

His sister was starting to see what he had seen all of those years ago, before he and Daenerys came to Winterfell. Arya was smart and always had been. She saw the good in others and had spent time with people that no lady of her station would have ever spent time with, which was why he had hoped back then that his sister would understand and perhaps realize how different Daenerys truly was. But the Arya he had known before he had gone to the Wall was gone and had been replaced by a young woman who had seen and lived just as many horrors as he had. Not one person he had known wanted to see Daenerys as he did. Now, over nine years later, he could see that Arya was starting to show the pieces of herself that he once knew and could understand that what he had always known.

That night, as he lay in bed, he thought of Daenerys. He thought of her smile and how her eyes used to light up when she talked about her dragons or the passion she had for helping others. He thought of the softness of her lips and how it felt to hold her in his arms. For so many years, he had lived with the guilt and anguish of killing not only the woman he loved, but his own kin. It never mattered to him that she was his blood. He still loved her and wanted to be with her. And if this journey ended in his death, then he knew that it would be worth it to see her one last time and to tell her that he regretted ever hurting her.

* * *

Rhaenys sat patiently while her mother braided her hair. It was a ritual that they had every morning before she would run out and play or explore. The braid was important as the Dothraki believed that it was a display of power. A khal who had never been defeated had a long braid that was shown to the world for all to see and admire. Her mother had once said that her first husband, Khal Drogo, had never been defeated in battle and his braid was longer than any man’s she had ever seen. Other Dothraki women had braided her hair over the years and taught her how to braid so that she could help the smaller children. It was something she loved about the people who surrounded her mother. The khalasar was always welcoming and accepted her as one of their own.

“Mai, tell me about my name,” she asked.

“You were named for Rhaenys Targaryen, first of her name,” her mother said, running her fingers through her hair. “She was the wife of Aegon the Conqueror and rode Meraxes, the great silver dragon. She spent more time on Meraxes than either of her siblings on their dragons. Some say she lived to ride as it gave her freedom.”

A broad smile covered her face as she listened to her mother. She loved hearing the stories of their ancestors and their dragons. Long ago, their family had been respected and feared. But also, at least some of them, loved. Her mother had been loved by her people. The Unsullied, the khalasar, and the people of Meereen, Astapor, and Yunkai.

“During her time as a Queen, she rode to the smaller towns and spoke with the small folk to hear their complaints and needs so that the King would know them too. She cared for the people and made their interests her own. When she died in Dorne, the grief of Aegon and Visenya was unmatched by any grief known to any man then...they burned castles in Dorne for years after.”

“Would you burn a castle for me, Mai?” she asked, turning to look at her mother.

Her mother nodded. “I would burn the world for you, Rhaenys. Any mother would do the same for their children. I love you more than anything.”

Moving into her mother’s arms, she hugged her tightly and smiled. “I love you too.”

“Now, run off to your lessons with Raggo. You know he does not like for you to be late,” her mother chided gently, sending her on her way.

Rhaenys ran out the door and down to the camp. The neighs of horses made her giggle as she passed by the newly born babes. Their fur was soft and sleek as she touched them and went by. Each one was beautiful and healthy, just as she knew they would be. One of these would be hers. Raggo had promised her now that she was old enough to tame one herself. She would ride a horse and a dragon to conquer the land and the air, just as her mother had.

“Aena shekhikhi Raggo!” she greeted as she came to a halt in front of her teacher.

“Aena shekhikhi Rhaenys,” he replied, smiling. “Hash yer dothrae chek?”

“Anha dothrak chek!”

Her training lasted over an hour as she practiced with an arakh and the whip. She was getting better every day and Raggo praised her progress. With one or two tries, she was able to wrap the whip around an opponents ankles and take them to the ground. Rhaenys was proud as she had worked on this skill for many weeks now. Looking to Raggo, she saw his smile and nod of approval as she continued. When they were done, he praised her and gave her a small whip of her own to practice with when she had time.

As she left the training area, she came back around to the horses. A beautiful mare trotted over and she pressed her hand to her snout with a smile. Horses were a big part of her life, just as her dragons were. 

“She likes you,” a voice said from behind.

When she turned, she saw Torgo Nudho and grinned brightly. He had always been a part of her life, even when she was small. Her mother said that he had been someone she trusted the most and had loved her closest friend, whom she had been named for. To Rhaenys, he was family. Running over, she wrapped her small arms around him and smiled.

“She will be mine someday,” she declared as she looked up. “Raggo says that I am old enough to claim one and tame them as my own.”

“Then you must be ready to claim her when she is weaned from her mother,” he agreed, smiling. “What will you call her?”

Rhaenys paused, unsure. “I will know when she is mine.”

“A wise answer,” he replied. 

She smiled proudly and ran off to play with the other children. They engaged in games of chase and began to sing songs with the women while they were weaving baskets and making food. It was a life that Rhaenys loved and would not trade for anything.   
  


* * *

Jon approached the Dothraki camp cautiously, uncertain of anyone who might recognize him. Arya had given him clothing that would make him look more like a local trader and less like a man of the Nights Watch, but he still could not help but remain on guard of anyone that would be suspicious. He could see the men practicing with the horses and the women in their circles, cooking food and making saddles, blankets, and other materials. When he saw a group of children, his heart stopped. 

“She’s...there,” Arya said quietly beside him. “See the girl with the braids and the blue gown?”

Jon nodded. He knew right away which was his daughter. He could see her dark curls and porcelain skin. The smile and the laugh he knew so well...it was as if he had entered a dream.  _ Just like her mother…  _ he thought to himself. She was everything he had dreamed of from the moment that he learned he was a father. Silently, he cursed himself as he knew that he could have had this life. A life with Daenerys and their daughter, raising her together, if he had only just seen that something was not right and that the woman he loved would have never harmed innocent people.

Before he could respond, Rhaenys separated from her group of friends and came running their direction. Jon did not know what to do, but knew that she knew Arya.

“Arya!” she greeted as she came up. “You went away and didn’t say goodbye! Where did you go?”

“I had to go home for a while, but I brought someone with me,” she replied, smiling. “This is my brother, Jon.”

“Hello,” she said, looking up at Jon. “I’m Rhaenys.”

He looked down and without a doubt in his mind knew that this child was his and Daenerys’ daughter. Her eyes were blue just like her mother’s and he could see that she took much more after Dany than him. Except for her hair, which was wild and unruly like his and dark in color. That was a feature he knew came from the Stark side of their family.

“Hello,” he replied back, clearing his throat as his thoughts caught up to him. “We didn’t mean to interrupt your game.”

“That is alright,” the little girl responded, grinning. “Arya, are we going to train again now that you are back?”

“Of course, as soon as you’d like,” his sister promised.

“Good...because I know that I can beat you now!” 

Jon could not help but smile. The confidence was all Daenerys. He could see that fire in her eyes that Dany had when she was passionate about something. It was something he loved and admired in her and was happy to see in their daughter. A daughter that was living flesh and blood right in front of him.

“Did you know that Jon was the one who gave me Needle?” Arya asked, kneeling down in front of Rhaenys. 

“You did?” she asked, looking up at him in awe.

“Aye...I had our smith make it for her. She was not a fan of sewing or other ladylike things, so I wanted her to have a proper sword.”

“He even taught me my first lesson...stick ‘em with the pointy end,” Arya added with a smirk.

Rhaenys giggled. “Of course you use the pointy end. Everybody knows that!”

_ Smart and quick, just like Arya too.  _ Jon could feel the pride in his heart swell. And the guilt of not knowing she was here until now.

After Rhaenys had run off to be with the other children, Jon looked at his sister. He could see the smile on her face and knew that she was just as proud of her as he was. So much of her life had already been missed, though he had no right to it after what he had done. But now that he knew that she was real and that he was a father, he did not want to turn his back on her. The obstacle now was going to be facing Daenerys and hoping that she would forgive him for what he had done. 


	12. Chapter 12

Daenerys was aware that Arya Stark had been away for some time. She was informed that she had set sail some weeks ago and had recently returned. But what she was unsure of was why the youngest Stark girl had come back. Surely her life in Westeros was far more privileged than the life she lead here in Volantis. Not only that, but her family resided Westeros. It was unsettling, but they had agreed that no harm would come to Rhaenys. And if she were to go back on her word and anything happened to her daughter, Daenerys would rain down fire and blood. Just as her ancestors had before her when the first Rhaenys was killed in Dorne. Though her family had a long history of violence to one another, they also had a great history of loyalty and love to each other. She and Rhaenys were proof that the Targaryen family was not all just fire and blood. 

After the return of the Stark girl and her Baratheon betrothed, Daenerys kept a closer eye on her daughter and, much to Rhaenys’ annoyance, did not allow her to roam as freely as she had before. It was a temporary measure of safety until she was certain that it was safe for her daughter. A mother always worried for her child. Daenerys more so than other mothers given all she had gone through to have the daughter she had now. Rhaenys would never truly understand how much Dany loved her and would go to the ends of the world to protect her from harm. 

With the Dothraki blood riders guarding her daughter inside their home, she made the journey to the temple of the Red Priestesses. She had questions and she wanted to know the answers.

“Aleera?” she called out as she came inside.

“Yes, My Queen?” the priestess said as she came out from the prayer room.

They were long past correcting titles. Daenerys has stopped years ago when she knew she could not change their minds.

“Is Kinvara here?” she asked. “I need to speak with her.”

“She is, let me fetch her,” Aleera said, disappearing to the prayer room. 

After a few minutes, the familiar face of Kinvara appeared. Daenerys smiled and approached her as she would a friend, embracing her. Kinvara had brought her back to life and kept her and Rhaenys safe for so many years as she had kept their existence a secret. Kinvara had delivered Rhaenys in this temple. She had seen her daughter’s first steps and heard her first words. The priestesses here had all been a part of their lives as much as the Unsullied and the khalasar had.

“What brings you to our home?” she asked. 

“I have found myself wondering about something you told me many years ago, before Rhaenys was ever born,” she explained. “You said that you had faith that I would conquer and the darkness would leave for good.”

Kinvara nodded. “Yes, I remember.”

“Is that something that you still believe?” 

“The Lord of Light still has a purpose for you, even if you cannot see it yet,” she reassured Dany.

“What about my daughter?” She could not fathom the thought of ever leaving her behind or risking her safety for something that she was not certain of.

“Rhaenys is special. She is a child born of ice and fire, so much of her future is yet to be seen, but I believe that she will be who unites people both highborn and low.”

Daenerys nodded, knowing that it was something that she could see herself. Her daughter was so pure of heart and wanted to believe that there was good in all people. Her daughter was still just a child, but she had been protected and sheltered, so she had not seen the cruelty of the world that Daenerys had when she was the same age. When Daenerys was her age, she and Viserys were constantly worried for their lives, running from place to place in order to seek shelter from the assassins sent by Robert, and wondering where their next meal would come from. Daenerys had sworn that her child would never know that life.

“I only worry for her safety. She is still just a child…” Even though she was a child, Dany knew that would not stop others from attempting to take her daughter’s life as they had when Dany was just a child herself.

“She has many who will protect her and keep her safe,” Kinvara said, squeezing her hand gently. “Your daughter has so many people that would be willing to give their lives for hers.”

That was true. They had family surrounding them, though not Targaryen family. As the last of their house, Daenerys knew she and Rhaenys had to be careful in who they trusted. But those who were with them now had proven trustworthy. The Unsullied and the khalasar were their protectors and their people. No one would dare lay a hand on Rhaenys while she was protected so fiercely.

“I am thankful for everything you have done,” she said softly. “You sheltered me and delivered my child without questioning anything I had done before I came.”

“We have all done things we take no pride in, but we also know there are evil forces at work in this world that seek to destroy the pure and the good,” the Red Priestess explained. “We know of the things that transpired in Kings Landing, but I also believe that you were not to blame for the massacre and the unprovoked attack on the city after they had surrendered.”

“What do you mean? I was the one riding Drogon when he attacked…”

“Yes, but you were not the one controlling him. Or yourself. I have seen this in a vision.” 

Kinvara’s words caused Dany’s blood to go cold as she thought back to that day. The gaps in her memory and the shocking revelation as to her actions that day. But who would have done that to her? She knew that many were plotting against her, Varys included. But she did not know who would have had the power to invade her mind and control a dragon. The thought of it was unsettling and deeply offended Daenerys as she considered her bond with Drogon to be sacred and untouchable. She felt violated as she stood there, willing herself to find words.

“Who could have done this?” she asked, finding her composure.

“A man who calls himself the Three Eyed Raven,” Kinvara said. 

“Bran Stark?” she questioned. He was Jon’s brother and one of the last living Starks. And he now sat as King in Westeros, after she was murdered and Jon was exiled to the Wall.

“He ceased to be Brandon Stark a long time ago,” Kinvara continued, moving to sit down. “His journey as that boy ended beyond the Wall when he met the Three Eyed Raven, who passed his power to the boy.”

“Why would he do that to me?” Daenerys sat down with her. 

“Can you imagine a rule without end? A King who has no certain time when they will die?” The Red Priestess looked to Daenerys. “And a King who has the power to see the past, present and future?”

“He wanted to take it for himself...to gain power over Westeros,” she said.

“The Three-Eyed Raven has been around for longer than anyone knows. The power is passed down through the ages through humans, but no one knows where the first one came from. Melisandre believed that the Three-Eyed Raven is a friend of the Children of the Forest.”

“What can I do when he can see everything and can control both myself and my dragon?” she asked. 

“There are always other ways,” Kinvara said. “But that is a choice that you will have to make when the time comes. Will you be the Queen that Westeros needs once more?”

Daenerys had wondered for so many years now what had happened at Kings Landing to cause Jon to turn against her. She knew that Varys and Tyrion were self-serving and once they learned the truth of Jon’s parentage, they would turn against her for what they considered the “better option”, with Varys going so far as to try and poison her. Jon had been horrified at her execution of Varys, but she had promised Varys that she would kill him if he ever betrayed her. He had understood that when he came into her service and had made a choice to betray her and try to kill her. But if Bran Stark had gained control and caused her to murder innocent people, then she knew that the real enemy was not who she had believed.

When she left the temple, she had more answers than she had before going, but still many questions lingered in her mind. They were weighing heavily on her mind as she walked back toward her home. So many had betrayed and used her during her life, including those who were meant to protect her. Her brother Viserys had sold her into marriage at the first opportunity to gain an army. Robert Baratheon sent assassins. Her advisors had turned on her. And so many had used her and her dragons, her children, to win wars for them. Yet, she still had a compassionate heart and longed to help those who could not help themselves. She had ended slavery, though at a cost, however she knew that the freedom of those who were enslaved had been worth the cost and the masters who refused to change had paid the ultimate price.

When she arrived at her home, she paused when she saw a hooded figure standing near the doorway. Reaching for her dagger kept on her waist, she unclasped the handle and wrapped her hand around the hilt.

“Who are you?” she demanded. 

When the shadow stepped into the lighted path, she took a step back and held up the dagger. It was a face she had not seen in almost ten years.

“Dany…”


	13. Chapter 13

“Stay back,” she ordered, holding the dagger up as Jon Snow stepped into the dim light. 

It had been ten years since she last saw him, in the Red Keep, when he plunged a knife into her heart. And while she now knew the truth of why she still could not trust him with her life. Not when she had so much more to lose now than she had then. Her daughter, their dragons, and her life here were far more important to her than anything. And she would not risk them against the man who had murdered her after telling her that he loved her. Though she knew now that what Jon had done had been in good faith for what he had seen and knew then, she still could not trust him when they had not spoken or seen one another for ten years. The bitter taste of distrust lingered in her mouth as she looked at him.

“Dany, I’m not here to hurt you,” he said, staying where he was. “I swear it.”

“How can I trust a man who stabbed me in the heart when I gave him that very same heart so freely before?” she asked pointedly. “Who never thought to ask me what happened?”

“I didn’t know...I only saw what happened. I saw you destroy the city and the people.” He made no move for a weapon, though she was certain he carried one. “You did not seem to even care when I said that children were burned. I had no idea...what had happened.”

The truth in that was that Dany could not remember what he had said that day. Not all of it. She remembered pieces, but no more than that. Kinvara had said she’d had her mind taken over by someone else and that she would not remember because it was not her who was truly in control. That person had been the very same brother that Jon had spent days talking to Dany about when they journeyed to Winterfell.

“You knew me...you knew I would never hurt innocent people. That I was there to protect them from Cersei,” she said. “And to change the system that continued to roll over everyone who was not noble or rich.”

“I know and I regret that decision more than any I have made in my life,” he replied. “I know now that something was not right. And that my actions were not in any way justified because you were not...you were not the Dany that I knew before we came to that city.”

“Based on what you knew then, they were,” she said, lowering the dagger some, but not all the way. “What you saw...what you were told by people that I had trusted...was that I had gone mad. I had turned into the Mad King’s daughter after all. Tyrion and Varys had turned you against me and sought to place you on the throne because you were the last male heir of House Targaryen...and obviously more fit to rule. In their eyes.”

“I didn’t want that,” he said, taking one step closer. “I never did. But you were right...they were trying to place me there because of who I was.”

The tension in the air was palpable as she looked at him. Years had not changed the man she once knew as his hair still fell in messy curls framing his face and the dark hair growing on his chin. He still had the same stoic look to him that she had come to know and remembered fondly. The seriousness in his stance was betrayed by the concern in his eyes. The longing and the regret she could see hidden behind the prideful way in which he carried himself. 

“Why have you come here?” she questioned.

She had remained hidden for ten years in peace. Though the Dothraki and the Unsullied had found her through whispers and rumors, she had lived in peace here in Volantis since her resurrection with no one in Westeros knowing of her existence. She had been able to raise Rhaenys without the constant fear of assassins or where their next meal would come from, as she had done when she was a child. And now that peaceful existence was threatened by the very people who had stolen her life from her.

“I came...because Arya told me you were still alive. And because...we have a child.” 

The words were bitter to her ears. Jon had no right to claim Rhaenys as his own. He had never been in her life and had almost prevented her from ever drawing breath in the first place. Rhaenys was  _ her  _ daughter and she was fiercely protective of her. Anger quickened in her heart as she brought the dagger back up, still lacking faith in the man before her, just as he had discredited her ten years prior. But her better judgement quieted the dragon within her as she remembered that he admitted to his wrong. Jon had never lied to her. He was a straightforward man with honor, even if it had cost him everything. And while she still felt distrust in her heart, she knew that he would not harm the most precious thing to her. The daughter they shared.

“Her name is Rhaenys,” she said. 

A small smile escaped him as he nodded. “Named for our ancestor and one of the first queens of Westeros. It’s a good name...a strong one.”

“She is beautiful...clever and never still. There is not one moment of the day that she is not learning or training. She just celebrated her ninth name day. Raggo, one of the blood-riders, gifted her a mare. Her first one to tame and ride all on her own. And her second name...” she hesitated, her throat catching with emotion, “is Missandei.”

Rhaenys had been raised around horses and dragons, so she feared neither. Her daughter feared almost nothing for her young age, but she was the blood of the dragon too. Daenerys had grown up fearing the world for all of the horrors her brother had told her that their family had endured. Their father was murdered by his own Kingsguard, their brother slain at the Trident, and their mother, who died in childbirth. Every other member of their family had been hunted down and killed after the rebellion, except for herself and Viserys. And Aemon, on the wall, who many had even forgotten was a Targaryen. That did not stop Robert from trying to have her murdered, even after she had married Khal Drogo. But her daughter had not known that life. Rhaenys had known happiness and comfort with a loving family. Her life had been blessed by being both a part of the Dothraki khalasar and the Unsullied. The childhood she had known was what Dany had always longed for. The red door and lemon tree. Simplicity and happiness.

“Missandei of Naath,” Jon said. “Your friend. A kind woman who spoke highly of you.”

Dany nodded. “She was my family. No matter what it cost her, she followed me and supported me. I never got to thank her for all she did...Rhaenys has the same kindness and empathy to others.”

“I think...she would be honored to share her name with her,” he stated. “I never got to tell you how sorry I was that you lost her. Rhaegal too. I should have comforted you, Dany.”

The words stung as the weight of them hit her. She had wanted him to comfort her in her sorrow at Dragonstone. Losing Jorah, Rhaegal and then Missandei in such a short span of time had cut her deeply. Varys’ betrayal and attempt on her life added fuel to the fire as she could not allow someone so close to her escape unscathed when she had warned them that she would execute them for their first sign of disloyalty. Varys had known what he had done and accepted his fate. But she had needed Jon to step in and mend the wounds to her heart.

“I wanted you to,” she admitted. “I loved you and needed you more than I needed anyone else, but you were so distant from me. It was as if you did not love me anymore.”

“I was conflicted because of what I had learned. My whole life was full of lies and everything I knew was wrong,” he explained. “I never stopped loving you, Dany. I didn’t care about who my parents were when it came to you. I already loved you before we knew the truth. We wouldn’t have been the first to be wed, even among the Starks. But I trusted the wrong people and I can never take that back.”

“What I can remember of that day is the moment I wanted you to be with me,” she said softly, lowering the dagger completely. “I wanted to rule together, as equals, and change the world to benefit everyone. I wanted to marry you. To be truly happy for the first time in my life.”

“I was stupid for not trusting you before. But I won’t make that mistake again.”

Hesitating, Dany put away the dagger and then stepped forward to close the distance between herself and Jon. Her hands were shaking as she remembered their last encounter, but she remained confident in her decision as she brushed her fingers over his arms and then buried her face in his chest. He felt the same as he had ten years prior and a wave of memories flooded her mind of the nights spent with him. Of all the times she talked late into the night with him about dragons, their childhoods, and her hope for the future of their people. Her body relaxed as he embraced her and she felt no weapon on him. He had come unarmed.

“I’m so sorry, Dany,” he murmured as he kissed her head. “I don’t deserve forgiveness, but I will spend the rest of my life trying to earn it.”

“I can forgive you,” she said, looking up at him. “But trust has to be earned. It will take me a long time to trust you again.”

“I understand and respect that,” he replied. “I just want to make things right. For you and for our daughter.”

For ten years, Dany had wanted to speak to Jon. She had wanted to kill him when she first came back for his betrayal, but now that she knew the truth she knew that it had not been his fault. He only knew what he had seen then and she could not blame him for doing what he thought was the best course of action to protect innocent people from dying. But she knew that she had to tell him the truth about being controlled by Bran, the brother that he loved and had talked about for many hours on their way to Winterfell. That would be a troublesome conversation for another time.

“I could have killed you...Drogon could have burned you alive for all you knew,” she said after a moment. 

“I know.”

“You’re a stupid man, Jon Snow,” she added.

Without hesitation, he smiled. “I know.”


	14. Chapter 14

Trust.

It took many weeks and months to build, but one act to shatter it completely to a thousand pieces left on the floor. Ten years apart had truly shown Daenerys that she did not trust the man she once loved and wanted to share her new world with. Ten years ago, she had given him her whole heart and placed everything she had worked for on hold to help him. To help save the kingdoms that she had come to rule. And for what? To be killed because of something she did not do? Everything inside of her railed against allowing Jon to live, but she would not continue to circle of violence. Not when she had worked for the last ten years to make a better world for her daughter to live in.

She had kept her distance from Jon after that first meeting, though she knew her heart longed for him. He had been the first man she had felt something for, deep in her heart, since Drogo. But she still could not shake the memories of his steel blade ripping into her chest, taking the very life from her. The feeling of betrayal and utter confusion she felt when she woke in Volantis and found out that Jon Snow had been the one to kill her. For so many years, she didn’t have answers and did not know what she had done to deserve his villainy. And though she understood why he had murdered her now, it still did not instill any kind of trust in him now after so many years apart. Did she forgive him? Maybe. That was yet to be seen as she knew she had to guard herself, her heart, and her daughter. Forgiveness was earned, not freely given, in Daenerys’ mind. Jon would have to earn her forgiveness for what he had done, even if her heart longed for him. 

In her short life, she had lost her parents, her home, her brothers, her khal, a son, several of her maids, her protectors, her guardian, her best friend, two of her dragons, her people, her army, and ultimately her life. Daenerys Targaryen’s life had been thrust into bloodshed from the moments he came into the world, not by her choice. But she had always conquered and overcome until she could not anymore.

What plagued her mind now was how to tell her daughter about her father. All of Rhaenys’ life, her father had been a mystery to her. A way of keeping her safe, Daenerys supposed, because she was too young to understand the cruelty of the world. Westeros was far different than Volantis and even Dragon’s Bay. It was cold and distant, so Daenerys sought to keep her daughter as far away from that world as possible, including the man who had fathered her. She had done that for nine years because it was what was best for Rhaenys. So she could grow up happy and with a childhood Daenerys never had. Now that Jon was here, it was much harder to keep Rhaenys from the truth.

Her daughter sat on the floor of their home, Moonfyre in her arms as she spoke softly in High Valyrian. The silver dragon was content as she purred and chirped. Missanderys was snapping at Bloodfyre on the floor as they chased one another around. Mhysa and Rhaellys were asleep by the fire. Their five new dragons were growing rapidly and Rhaenys was showing signs of being a true Targaryen as she commanded them all with a single whip and the command of her voice. Much as she had done with Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal. 

“Rhaenys,” she said, beckoning her over with her hand. 

“Yes Mai?” the little girl replied as she came over with her dragon in her arms.

Daenerys lifted her daughter onto her lap, helping her settle Moonfyre when she snapped at the disturbance. She smoothed her daughter’s wild curls, kissing her head. Her daughter smelled of lemon and lavender. A comforting smell that Dany had used for many years to help her little one sleep.

“I think it is time that I tell you more about your ave,” she said. “You are growing up so fast. And there are things that you need to know about where you came from.”

When Rhaenys nodded, she took a deep breath.

“When I met him on Dragonstone, he was called Jon Snow,” she began. 

“He was a bastard?” Rhaenys interjected, seemingly surprised. 

“He was then,” she explained. “But he was a man who had proven himself worthy of titles many times over. He was raised at Winterfell with the Stark family. Lord Eddard Stark had claimed him as his son after the war was won and he had come home. When Lord Eddard left for Kings Landing, Jon swore allegiance to the Night’s Watch and began his life at the Wall. He saved many lives and was voted as Lord Commander just a short time later.”

Before she had met Jon, she had never known anyone quite like him. He had no real interest in politics or the games that the high lords played, yet had become King in the North because of his own actions and loyalty to those that he had sworn to protect and serve. Stubbornness was one of his most profound traits, but one that she admired and came to respect because it helped to save his people. Jon never gave up when it came to fighting to keep the living alive against the dead. Ser Davos had told her that he had died protecting others, though she did not understand it then, she did once she saw the scars on his chest. He was one of the rare and truly selfless people she had met during her life. 

“What happened after that?” Rhaenys asked, looking up at Dany.

“He was betrayed,” she explained. “Because of his actions in bringing the Free Folk south of the wall for protection from the growing army of the dead, many of the men who served under him felt he had betrayed them, so they planned to murder him.”

Her daughter was appalled as she felt a small jolt of fear from the little girl in her arms.

“He was brought back...by a Red Priestess, like Kinvara, because his purpose was not finished,” she continued. “He was to fight the Night King and help protect the realm from the dead.”

“Then he came to find you...to ask for the dragon glass,” Rhaenys added, having heard that part of the story many times since she was just a babe.

Dany nodded, confirming that as fact. “And we sailed for King’s Landing after we came from beyond the Wall...after Viserion died.”

The loss of a child never truly left the heart of a grieving mother. Daenerys had lost three children in her life. Rhaego, the unborn son she had felt moving about in her belly right until the moment she came into the birthing tent. The son whom the Dosh Khaleen had proclaimed The Stallion Who Would Mount The World before he was even born. The gods had been cruel and took him from her before she could even see him. She never knew what he looked like, except for the vision she had in the House of the Undying. Viserion, her cream and gold dragon. The quietest of her three, but also the most affectionate. He would sit in her lap for hours when he was small, quiet and content by a fire. The Night King had stolen him from her and turned him into something monstrous that she could not understand nor save him from. And Rhaegal, her beautiful emerald dragon. The peacekeeper between Viserion and Drogon, who thrived when they were altogether. Euron Greyjoy had seen to his death with a spear. Their losses never left Dany as she thought of them often and how they might be now. Rhaego would be old enough to lead a khalasar now and would have been as fierce as his father had been, both on a horse and a dragon. Viserion and Rhaegal would be flying free with Drogon, protecting the new hatchlings while flying out to sea to hunt. Her heart yearned for the three sons she had lost, but still remained with the children she had living. Drogon and Rhaenys were her world now and she would never let any harm come to either of them. Or the new dragons.

“What happened...why did everything change?”

“Before the Battle of Winterfell, your father learned the truth about who he was. Eddard Stark never told him the truth about his mother. Or his real father,” she said softly. “Lord Stark was never Jon’s father. He lied to protect him.”

“From who?” Rhaenys asked, looking up at her, eyes wide and curious. 

“Robert Baratheon,” she replied. “Jon was the child of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, born in Dorne after Rhaegar died on the banks of the Trident. Rhaegar never kidnapped Lyanna like everyone believed. They ran away and secretly married after he annulled his marriage to Elia Martell. Jon was born after Rhaegar died at the Trident.”

“He is our blood,” the little girl said, almost in a whisper. 

Dany nodded in confirmation. “His true name is Aegon Targaryen. A secret I asked him to keep...because it threatened everything I had worked so hard for. Because it would mean my advisors could betray me. And because he told his sisters, they did. After all of that, we came to King’s Landing...and you know that story.”

Dany remembered the days following Missandei’s death. How she suspected that Varys was trying to poison her and when that fear was realized as truth, she executed him in the manner in which she had promised him she would when he first came to her in Meereen offering his loyalty and service. He and Tyrion had both turned because Jon was the last living male heir to House Targaryen after they believed she was unfit. But it was their faulty advice that caused such travesties to occur. In a matter of days, she lost her closest friends, two of her children, and the faith of those who she had put her faith in to help her.

“Mai...you said that his other family name was Stark too, like Arya?” Rhaenys asked.

“Yes, his sisters are Arya and Sansa,” she answered. 

“I...met a man named Jon,” she said, almost sheepishly. “He came with Arya.”

Looking at her daughter, she could see that Rhaenys was nervous about telling the truth. She kissed her head and touched her cheek. The babe she had carried and birthed, loved and protected, had grown up so fast before her eyes. Rhaenys was wise and pure of heart, much like Daenerys had been so many years ago. Her daughter was both a dragon and a wolf, fierce but gentle and loyal.

“That man is your ave,” she replied softly. “And Arya is your aunt.”

Rhaenys’ eyes widened in surprise as she took in the truth. Dany could see her mind forming around the thought and how she accepted it. From the moment she was born, Dany had seen Jon in her. The wild hair that curled in every direction was all Jon. Her ability to make friends with almost anyone and an ease with leading the other children was Jon and herself mixed in their daughter. Rhaenys had a gentle heart, much like her own. And her eyes mirrored Dany’s, though everything else was Jon. But Dany could not have been more proud of her child. 

“Does he know about me?” Her voice was small and almost a whisper.

Dany nodded, “He does. And he wants to meet you, properly, when you are ready.”

Rhaenys’ eyes lit up as she smiled widely. Her daughter had asked about her father many times in her young life, so Dany could not deny her the chance to know him. With so many nearby who loved Rhaenys, she knew she was safe. And she doubted that Jon would ever harm their daughter. Not when he already loved her and wanted to protect her.

“Can we go today?” Rhaenys asked.

Daenerys nodded, “Go get in the bath. I’ll be in to help you with your hair and we will get ready.”

The little girl ran out of the room as fast as her feet would carry her once she placed Moonfyre on the ground with her brothers and sisters. Daenerys smiled and watched her child before sending for Torgo Nudho. He was the closest one she could trust with watching over them while Rhaenys met with her father for the first time. She had spoken with him about Jon since his arrival, which he did not agree with because he considered Jon to be a traitor, but Daenerys explained that while they could not trust Jon right now, they could at least be civil for the sake of Rhaenys. Her heart was constantly at war with itself, but she locked it away for the time being. Until they knew what had happened, for sure, ten years ago, she knew that she could put very little trust in anyone but those she already held close to herself.

“Mai, come braid my hair!” a shivering little girl called from the doorway. Wrapped in a fur, she was soaked head to toe.

“Oh my...now there is a soaking wet dragon,” she laughed, coming over to her daughter. “What am I going to do with you?”

Going to the bedroom, she helped Rhaenys dress in one of her softer dresses. It was one that was made for her by Kinvara and the other Red Priestesses as a gift for her name day. The colors were vibrant and bold. Red for their house. Daenerys sat with her daughter in front of her, braiding her hair intricately. She thought of the last ten years she had spent alone, raising her child. The countless nights she spent awake, holding Rhaenys against her child and touching the swirl of her hair to make sure that all of it was real. She thought of the nights where she lay awake, crying because she was so exhausted from Rhaenys’ crying and wishing she was not alone in taking on the responsibilities of a child. While she had a lot of people who cared and loved them both, she truly was alone in raising her daughter. She had nursed her at her breast, cared for her when she was ill, and taught her everything she knew and tried to ensure that Rhaenys had a far better education about the world than she had been given. And for all the times she felt like she had failed, seeing her daughter become the bright, kind, spirited, and courageous child she was made her proud.


	15. Chapter 15

Jon stood still as the Godswood tree in Winterfell, waiting for Daenerys to arrive. He had no idea why he felt his nerves on edge as he had already met Rhaenys once before, but today he would meet her, officially, as her father. Daenerys had sent word to him that she wanted to introduce him to their daughter, so he had made himself ready as he changed his clothes to something suitable and made sure that he was clean. As he waited, he thought of all he had missed in his daughter’s short life and felt regret. He should have been there for Dany during her pregnancy and at her side when she gave birth. Not even the gods would have been able to keep him out of that birthing room because he cared little for protocol and what was proper. Jon would have been there to see their daughter’s first steps and hear her first words. If only he had listened to his own heart and instincts rather than the words of two men who were plotting behind his and Dany’s backs. He had been a fool to believe them and trust them when he knew as well as anyone that everyone was only out for their own political gain. The woman he loved should have been the one he trusted.

“She is a remarkable woman,”Arya said, appearing at his side. 

“She always has been,” he replied. “I only wish other people could have seen that too.”

“Everyone was wary of those who were not their own blood back then. Even I was...after all that I had seen. After father was murdered and then Robb, my mother, and Robb’s wife at the Red Wedding, no one could trust anyone. Especially our family.”

Jon nodded solemnly. He remembered receiving word at The Wall of his father’s execution at the hands of the Lannisters. It had enraged him to the point where he abandoned his oath to avenge him, but his brothers brought him back before he could be discovered as a deserter. The pain he had felt when he found out that Robb, his brother and closest friend growing up, had been killed was unlike any he had ever experienced. His siblings had not been given the kindest refuge as Sansa was abused and raped, Arya almost murdered several times, Bran being taken North of the Wall and becoming...well something Jon never quite understood. And then losing Rickon to Ramsay Bolton. The Stark family had every right to distrust others, but Jon had spent time with Daenerys. He had hoped his family would see her for who she really was, but their own trauma and losses had prevented them from doing so.

“You should get to know her,” he encouraged. “Daenerys is not so different from you and I. She has a kind heart, but has seen violence and betrayal as much as we have.”

“Maybe she will let me,” Arya said. “I know that there is a lot of animosity and distrust, but I know that I believe her when she says that she did not know she had burned the city. I don’t know why, but the way she reacted when I told her...that was not a woman who would willingly kill thousands of innocent people.”

“I don’t think she did either...now that I know,” he agreed.

The door opened before their conversation could continue and Jon looked up to see Daenerys walking into the room. The little girl he had met before was at her side, holding her hand as they came in. Rhaenys standing next to Daenerys stole Jon’s breath away as he truly saw how much she took after her mother. While her hair was his, her eyes and smile were that of her mother, which had stolen Jon’s heart all those years ago. As they neared, Jon stepped forward and knelt down to the child’s level so that he could see her face to face. The little girl looked to her mother, who nodded in approval, so she stepped forward and rested her forehead to his.

“You’re my Ave,” Rhaenys whispered.

Jon looked to Dany. “It’s Dothraki for father,” she explained softly. 

Jon nodded and placed his hand on the little girl’s cheek, looking into her eyes with a smile. “I am your father.”

Rhaenys smiled and threw her arms around his neck. Jon wrapped his arms around her and picked her up as he stood up. He had never wanted a family as a bastard because he never wanted to shame his own child with what he had been growing up. Now, as a father, he never wanted to go back to that. He was fiercely proud and loved her more than he ever thought he could be. As he held her, he looked at Dany and smiled. He stepped to the side and set her down. 

* * *

Seeing her brother meet his daughter face to face for the first time made Arya smile. Her niece was every bit as beautiful as her mother, but had the wild curls that Jon had inherited from the Stark side of the family. From the moment she had met Rhaenys, she had known that the little girl was special, but until Bran had sent her the letter revealing her identity, she had not known how special she would be. But now she knew that she would do anything for this child, including lay down her own life. While Jon was showing Rhaenys some of the things he had brought with him from the North, she looked to Daenerys.

“Can we talk?” she asked.

Daenerys nodded. “Jon...we will be nearby if you need anything. Rhaenys, I won’t be gone long. Remember your manners.”

“Yes Mai,” the little girl said, grinning. 

Arya stepped outside with Daenerys and looked to the silver woman. She had only spoken with her a few times since finding out that she was still alive. Their conversations had always been brief and distrusting from both sides for many good reasons. 

“I want to tell you that...I am sorry. For how I acted before,” Arya apologized. “You and I never had a chance to truly get to know one another when you first came to Winterfell.”

“I understand that people did not trust me because I was an outsider, but...no one truly gave me a chance,” Daenerys replied. “I know that your family was traumatized by my own family in the past. I told Jon when we first met at Dragonstone that I was sorry for all the pain that House Targaryen had inflicted on House Stark. But also not to judge the daughter for the sins of her father.”

“My brother bent the knee to you...Jon is not the type of person to do things without a reason,” she said. “Even if we did not understand the reason. But he told me that you saved his life and lost one of your dragons.”

“Viserion,” Dany said. “He was my smallest...had beautiful colors of cream and gold. Quiet and incredibly gentle compared to his brothers. Nothing like his namesake, my brother Viserys.”

Arya saw the pain in her eyes and knew she still mourned, just as she had mourned the loss of Nymeria, though she knew her wolf was safe and with her own pack. 

“Your brother was not kind,” she surmised. 

“Viserys was weak...and cruel. But he was still my brother, so I named one of my dragons for him because his dragon would do things that he could not.” Daenerys looked away.

“Jon said that he knew when you were willing to risk your life for someone else that you were worthy...that was why he bent the knee. Because he saw you for the person you are.”

“Your brother is an incredibly smart man and a leader that people love because he does not just command. He also fights with those he commands and I admired that. It’s what drew me to him...made me see that he wasn’t just some foolish man crowned King of the North.”

“Jon was raised with no titles or even the name Stark,” she said. “But our father taught him that the man who delivers the sentence must also swing the sword. He believed in fighting alongside those that fought for our house. Jon carried that with him when he went to The Wall.”

“When I was born, people hated me and wanted me dead because of my name. I spent all of my life living from place to place with nothing to my name but hatred and death. All of my family was hunted and murdered for the sins of my father, a man that I never met or knew. My only family...my brother sold me into marriage to a man that I had never met and did not even speak the same language as,” the silver woman said solemnly. “Drogo was...as kind as a khal could be, but still spent many nights hurting me because I could not tell him that what he was doing hurt. I was too afraid to refuse because Viserys had told me to please Drogo. He was desperate to go home and said he would let the entire khalasar fuck me if it would give him the army he desired.”

Arya had never heard this part of Daenerys’ story. She had only known what people had whispered about and what she had seen for herself. Jon had told her that Daenerys had been through many things in exile, but Arya could not have imagined this, even after finding out about her own sister’s ordeal. The Dragon Queen was fierce and strong, but Arya began to realize that she had come from much more than anyone had ever known.

“What happened?”

“In time, I learned to speak my husband’s language and our relationship improved. I fell pregnant with a son, a child that the Dosh Khaleen prophesied would be The Stallion Who Mounts The World. Drogo was fiercely proud. I was his Moon and he was my Sun and Stars. Viserys...he was very jealous of the khaleesi I was becoming and that I began to love my people. He threatened me and my son in the most sacred city to the Dothraki, where no weapons or bloodshed are allowed.”

“He did something stupid, didn’t he?” Arya knew that some men were not smart. Daenerys’ brother did not seem to be.

Daenerys nodded, “He openly put a weapon to my belly in front of Drogo and everyone else, threatening to cut out our son to take me and sell me to another man to wed. He was drunk, so Jorah pleaded with him to stop. He wouldn’t listen. Drogo killed him for his threats and for the abuses he knew my brother had done.”

A justice which Arya understood and respected. She had done the same with Walder Frey for the Red Wedding and Petyr Baelish for all the lies he had spun, resulting in the deaths of her father and for murdering her own aunt. Arya believed in delivering the punishment for which the crime deserved. And Viserys had heaped abuses on his sister that no brother should have ever done. Arya’s own brothers would have never done those things to her or Sansa. They would have rather died than harm either of them.

“After, Drogo promised me the Iron Throne. For me and for our son,” Daenerys continued. “We began a journey and raided a village, but I could not stand by and watch the women be taken by the men. I took them for myself to protect them. One of the men challenged Drogo for this...Drogo killed him in combat, but was injured. The wound became infected and he was sick. I asked for help and a woman named Mirri Maz Duur came forward, saying she could heal him. She lied to me and used blood magic to take Drogo and our unborn son from me, saying that she would not have my son become the Stallion Who Mounts The World.” 

“This was before you had your dragons?” she inquired. 

“The dragon eggs I had were a wedding gift presented to me by the man who had helped arrange my marriage to Drogo. They were stone, but they called me every night. I could hear them, like they knew that I was a true Targaryen.”

The first time Arya had seen a living dragon was when they came to Winterfell. They had been the most magnificent sight she had ever seen, better than any book she had read in the library of her home about the Targaryens and their history. Daenerys’ dragons were the first living dragons in over a century in Westeros. When they came, they were fully grown and healthy, unlike the last dragons the Targaryens had bred before they died off. 

“They were born the night of my husband’s funeral. The witch who stole Drogo from me had told me that death paid for life, so the life of my husband, son, and the witch paid for theirs.”

“You and I...are not so different,” Arya said, coming to the realization that she had misjudged the Dragon Queen. They had both lost so much and had been betrayed and grown stronger from those betrayals, finding themselves in the heritage of their families. 

“Our families have a long and intertwined history with one another, but at the root of it all, we are not so different,” Daenerys replied. “Both of our families are deeply rooted in magic, tradition, and loyalty.”

The traditions of her family were what kept Arya rooted for so many years when she was far from home. The thought of her sister’s love of lemon cakes, the way that she joked with her brothers, how her mother chided her for being unlady like, and her father’s lessons reminded her of what she was fighting for. Listening to Daenerys, she realized that their lives were similar. They had both been on the receiving end of trauma and had loved ones ripped away from them. And they both had to grow stronger from those trials, hardening themselves to anything outside of their own minds. 

“I once told Jon that what kept me going in all the years I was in exile was faith in myself. I wanted to make the world a better place, not just for the highborn, but for all people. The system that was set up by my ancestors was what was necessary at the time, but it was not meant to last. People should be able to not fear their leaders and leaders should not crush those that they are meant to protect,” the silver haired woman went on. 

Arya nodded. “The system that it became benefited the Cersei Lannisters of the world. Even my own family.”

“Your family also worked with the people that they served. From what I saw, House Stark was well loved and respected by their people.” 

“Would you have let the North be independent?” Arya was honestly curious as to the answer. Her sister had demanded it, but she had heard that Yara Greyjoy had asked for independence for the Iron Islands and it was granted.

“If that was what the people truly wanted, then I would have. If your sister had asked it of me, fairly, then I would have granted it and worked to establish a system that would be beneficial to everyone. Just as I had made the agreement with Yara Greyjoy for the Iron Islands.” Daenerys looked to her, her hands folded and her expression relaxed. “I was not there to be the tyrant everyone believed me to be. I am not my father.”

“You are not,” Arya agreed. “What about Jon?”

“I loved him...even after he told me the truth about who he was,” she stated, repeating what she had told Arya earlier.

“And now?” 

The Dragon Queen hesitated. Arya could see the conflicting feelings in her eyes and knew that there was more that she was not saying. She could see that Daenerys still loved Jon.


	16. Chapter 16

Dany looked at her sleeping child and gently ran her hand along the curls framing Rhaenys’ face. The day had been exciting for her daughter as she was able to meet her father face-to-face for the first time and she had not put up a fight when it was time for bed that night. In sleep, her daughter seemed so much younger than she was and Daenerys thought back to earlier times in her life when she was still just a babe. A babe who brought joy during a time of confusion and fear. It brought tears to her eyes as she thought of how quickly the last nine years had gone by and the babe she once carried in her arms was a little girl that had quickly grown and changed. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips to her daughter’s forehead in a loving kiss before tucking the blanket around her. 

She retreated from her daughter’s room to the small sitting room where Jon was waiting. He had asked to come to their home to spend more time with Rhaenys and Dany had accepted, inviting him to eat dinner with them. The conversation had not been difficult as Rhaenys had so many questions to ask and Jon was all too willing to answer and tell her stories about Winterfell and the family she had never known on the other side of the sea.

“She wore herself out,” she said, smiling a little as she retrieved a goblet of wine. “Normally she will try and stay awake as long as possible, but tonight she had no fight.”

Jon smiled. “Arya always used to fight sleep too, growing up.”

“Rhaenys is so fond of her,” she added, a smile tracing her lips. “Arya has been so good with her. She has learned so much.”

“Arya was never quite the one for lessons as a lady...I remember Lady Stark would chastise her for lingering in the courtyard when we were training. Father never seemed bothered by it. Sometimes I think he was proud that she wanted to do more than sew and learn to run a household.”

“Your sister is a remarkable woman,” she agreed. Her conversation with Arya had taught her that they shared more in common than they had thought and that they had truly no reason to be wary of one another all those years ago.

“I think Arya reminded him of his sister...my mother,” he said after a moment. “People said that she was an excellent horse master and knew how to shoot a bow better than any man at Winterfell.”

“Were you angry, that he lied to you about who your parents were?” Dany looked him in the eyes.

“I thought I was,” he answered, looking down before turning away for a moment. “The last time I spoke to him, before we parted ways, he said that the next time we saw each other, he would tell me about my mother. He never got the chance to. But...now I know and understand why he lied and told everyone that I was his bastard. Robert Baratheon would have killed me if he knew the truth.”

Robert Baratheon had sent assassins after herself and her brother from the moment she was born, so she knew that he would not have hesitated in killing the newborn son of Rhaegar and Lyanna. Ned Stark had allowed everyone to believe he fathered a bastard, including his own wife, to honor the life of his sister and protect her son. An act of honor and love that Daenerys could never condemn. It was said that he had even persuaded Robert to stop sending assassins after her once Viserys had died. Ned was a true Stark, living his life by honor and loyalty to those that he loved. 

“Ned Stark was an honorable man who loved his family without fail,” she said softly. “He knew that there was no honor in killing a child, which was vastly different than the beliefs of his friend, Robert.”

“I think he saw their differences more clearly...when Robert became king. Jon Arryn, the man who raised both him and my father, sent letters saying that he could barely control Robert’s anger and spending.”

“Do you ever wonder...what might have happened if Rhaegar and Lyanna were just honest about everything?” she asked, curious about what Jon might say in reply.

“Sometimes, but Rhaegar was married to Elia Martell. Dorne would not have been happy and it would have risked war. Lyanna was betrothed to Robert, though my grandparents might have changed their minds for her happiness. But...if they had defied all odds, they could have been happy.”

Daenerys thought of that for a moment. Happiness. Throughout her life, she had only had a handful of moments of true happiness. Most of her early years were tainted with the constant running and hiding from her family’s enemies for a war neither she or her brother had caused. She had been orphaned the day of her birth as her mother had died bringing her into the world and her father was long gone before she ever drew her first breath. Her only family had been the brother who hated her and blamed her for their mother’s death. But, if things had been different, she might have grown up at Dragonstone or even King’s Landing. Her mother might not have died and she and Jon might have been betrothed to one another. A very different life for both of them.

“All of my life has been spent in hiding,” she said softly. “I wanted something different for Rhaenys. I wanted her to know a home with family and to feel safe because that was something I was denied all of my life.”

“You have given her all of those things,” Jon said sincerely. “I’ve seen how the Dothraki and the Unsullied all protect her and love her.”

“When they found me after I came back...I was heavily pregnant. I told them that they did not owe me loyalty and that they were free to go anywhere they wanted, but they insisted that they wanted to stay and protect me and my child. They have taken Rhaenys under their wings and loved her as they love their own. And I am so thankful for that every day.”

“If I had known...I would have been there,” he said. “I would have come to your side and never left.”

“Even after believing what Tyrion and Varys had told you?” she asked, looking at him. 

The question seemed to catch him by surprise as he looked at her. “After it was done, I asked if we had done the right thing. It felt wrong to me. And I was fully prepared to die for what I had done because I had killed the person I loved without giving you a chance to even explain what had happened. Even though I felt like something wasn’t right.”

“I might have killed you then,” she said. 

“That would have been a risk I had to take...and a punishment that I would have deserved.”

“Even if I had forgiven you, I might have killed you for the pain I was in,” she joked, a smile ghosting over her lips.

“I have never been near a woman giving birth, but I believe you,” he said, cracking a smile in response. “Will you tell me about the day she was born?”

“I was in pain for hours...it started the night before. The waves of pain were not as bad, but it grew more intense with every hour. I walked around, cursing your name and swearing I would never lay with a man again,” she said, laughing a little. “Kinvara and Torgo Nudho stayed with me and helped me move and tried to keep me as comfortable as they could. Drogon was outside, but I knew that he was nearby. When I began to push, he would cry out with me. And when Rhaenys was born, he roared with pride. Kinvara put her on my chest and I looked down to find swirls of dark hair. Just like yours. She was perfect and her lungs were so strong as she cried. I held her close and I promised her that I would never let anyone harm her...and that I would love her always.”

“I will never let anything happen to her or you,” he said, tentatively reaching over and touching Dany’s hand.

Instead of flinching away, Dany took his hand and held it. It was warm and calloused, just the way she remembered it all those years ago. When she looked him in the eyes, she found the same comfort and honesty that she had always known. Jon had never lied to her. And now she knew that he would have never hurt her if he had known that she was not in control of her own mind that day. 

“Would you protect us against anyone?” she asked, looking him in the eyes. “Even your own family?”

“What do you mean?”

“That day in King’s Landing...I was not the one in control. Kinvara said that she saw in a vision that it was the Three Eyed Raven.” 

“Bran?” Jon’s brows furrowed as he shook his head in disbelief. 

Dany nodded. “He is not Bran anymore...not since the Three Eyed Raven came to him beyond The Wall. Arya said that when he returned, he was not the same brother that you had known as children.”

“He was...changed. But we all had been since we last saw one another before Father died,” Jon said. “But Bran was even more so.”

Dany remembered what Kinvara had told her about the Three Eyed Raven and that he had taken control of Bran Stark. Bran no longer existed the way he had before, when Jon and Arya had known him before they had all separated. Bran had been unconscious when Arya, Sansa, and their father had departed for King’s Landing and Jon had left for The Night’s Watch. 

“If he was able to control my mind, he was able to control Drogon...and destroy innocent people. I only wanted to go for Cersei, but after I took off for the Keep, I don’t have any memory of anything I did after.”

“My brother would not have hurt innocent people. Bran was good.” Jon had told her about his brothers when they journeyed to Winterfell. Robb had been kind and courageous while Bran was always getting into trouble, climbing the walls when he was told not to. He was also a good boy, from what Jon had said. And Rickon had been high spirited, wanting to follow in the footsteps of all of his brothers. The Bran they had met in Winterfell was not the boy that Jon had remembered.

“The Three Eyed Raven took your brother,” she said solemnly. “The Red Priestesses fear The Three Eyed Raven and say that he is worse than the Night King.”

“And now he rules Westeros,” he said. 

The wheel just stopped and will stay there as long as he lives,” she said. “How old was the last Three Eyed Raven?”

“Hundreds of years old...at least that is the legend.”

The idea of that made Dany ill to think about. Someone ruling over for hundreds of years, unquestioned and unchallenged. She had no idea if he even cared for the people he now ruled over or if it was just a way to control humanity. The system that she had come to change was now just rolling over the people once more without them even knowing it.

“I’m sorry, Dany,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I was blinded by what I thought was right and protecting my family and ended up hurting the person I should have protected.”

“You love your family,” she said, standing up and putting her palms on his cheeks. “And that is one of the things I love about you.”

“You are my family,” he replied. “You and Rhaenys.”

Her heart was beating quickly as she looked down at him. For so many years, she had hated this man and wondered what she had done to cause him to hate her and turn on her. Now that they knew the truth, she knew that she could not hate him for doing what he thought was right, given what he knew about the circumstances. Her heart still loved him. She saw the honesty in his eyes and knew that he would never betray her again. Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his in the first kiss she had shared with another man in ten years. He returned the kiss with passion as he moved his hands to her hips. When they parted, she rested her forehead to his.

“I love you,” she whispered, allowing herself to say it aloud for the first time since her resurrection. 

“I love you and I will never hurt you again. I swear it,” he replied. “No one will ever harm you or Rhaenys.”

Dany nodded, tears streaming down her face. She had been given her life back and now, her love.


End file.
